


The Hinterlands

by Cleo the Muse (cleothemuse), thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Friendship, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-09
Updated: 2008-02-10
Packaged: 2019-02-02 02:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: graphic violence - Warning
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12718161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleothemuse/pseuds/Cleo%20the%20Muse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: SG-1 and General O'Neill are offworld for a celebration when the festivities come under attack, and in the confusion, Daniel is abducted.  Now SG-1 past and present must work together to track the kidnappers into the Hinterlands.





	1. Part 1 by Winterstar

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Round robin by members of Daniel Fic Recs at Yahoo! Groups.

He tugged at his collar and winced. His uniform itched. God, he hated these functions. He hated this mission. Shit, he even hated his drink. Jack frowned and looked at the pink slush in his glass with its cute little floating objects. It was definitely a girlie drink; it even tasted like an Earth girlie drink. He sipped it and gagged a little under his breath. The only reason he still attempted to drink it was due to the hope it would carry him away to the oblivion he so desperately craved.

As he scanned the large lobby for his people, Jack knew he had no one to blame but himself. When Landry submitted the request for this mission, Jack insisted the only way he would even consider approving it was if he was able to attend. Landry just laughed at him, said Jack was being overprotective. Landry didn't know much when it came to Daniel, though, so Jack just grinned and took the jibes. 

Where was Daniel, anyhow? Jack started to wander out of his corner near what the Eluetians sacrilegiously called a bar. It came nowhere close. He would have named it a soda stand, an ice cream bar, not a place for beverages of the alcoholic persuasion. Shrugging, Jack realized their hosts had a very good reason to keep it light on the consumption of alcohol. You couldn't have a bunch of mind readers walking around drunk, now could you? 

The thought of a room full of telepaths caused him to shiver, like a thousand insects dancing up and down his spine. The Eluetians had assured him they couldn't just read your mind willy nilly – okay, they hadn't technically used the term willy nilly but something like that. The mind reading had to do with a deep state of meditation or something like that. The Eluetians seemed like perfectly nice people, except, of course, for their idea of a decent drink. He smiled as he passed the ambassador and the assistant to whoever it was. Jack genuinely liked them. What he didn't like, and what he argued against was the plan to turn Daniel over to these head cases for a chance to find some defense against the Ori.

SG1 had first encountered this culture by accident, but the idea to use the Eluetians' mind reading talents didn't take long to root. Jack bet dollars to doughnuts, it took Daniel and Carter all of three seconds to make that leap of logic. He shook his head. He still refused to believe this was the logical course of action. Turning Daniel over for a `gentle mind probe' as Carter put it, so that they might access the vast repository of Ancient information in Daniel's head was wrong on so many levels Jack couldn't count. Hell, why didn't they probe Daniel's head for all the other crap that had been downloaded into it over the years, like all the knowledge of the Goa'uld that Shifu had gifted him with? 

When the request first came to his desk at Homeworld Security, Jack had out and out refused. When Landry and all of SG1 argued the point, Jack had offered himself. After all, he'd had the Ancient database downloaded into his skull a few times. Why not go digging around in there, rather than risk their only true expert on the Ori? And no, he didn't consider Vala an expert. Just because you gave birth to the personification of all Evil does not make you an expert. So, Jack told them to use him instead. Daniel only gave Jack that 'bow your head stance and wait until Jack figures it out for himself' look. Okay, it wasn't hard. Thor had cleaned up Jack's brain, wiped it sterile of all the Ancient knowledge and, Jack swore, the name of the girl he first kissed. So his squeaky clean brain was useless.

They knew Daniel's wasn't. Replicator Sam had proved it. Somewhere deep in Daniel's brain the Ancient repository of knowledge just waited to be tapped. He huffed. He couldn't debate it any longer. The President wouldn't be put off, Landry was getting all He-Man-chested about it, and SG1 was looking at him like he'd lost his touch. Thus, his current dilemma.  Jack stood in the reception area of the Eluetians' capital building as they hosted a party to set the tone and atmosphere of the night. They wanted the SGC and Tau'ri to understand they considered Daniel's safety a high priority. It was, as the Eluetian ambassador said, for their mutual benefit that the mind probe worked. They wanted everyone to be comfortable with the situation. 

Jack was anything but comfortable. What he knew, as they stepped onto this world hoping to find some key weapon in their fight against the Ori, was they were putting one of their own at risk with a people they barely knew. The situation wasn't all flowers and roses on Eluetia anyway. Seemed the Eluetians had violence in the outlands, what they called the Hinterlands. It all originated from some differences in basic beliefs. When the hell did it not? Anyway, it was all so idiotic and moronic, that he zoned out anytime Daniel started to discuss the reasons for it. Jack thought Daniel said it might have something to do with a minor Goa'uld, but hell, what did he know?

Simple and straightforward, Jack knew they were here on this world to suck Daniel's brain of any information that might lead them to the ultimate weapon against the Ori. Yippee, this is gonna be more fun than those damned spinning teacups at Disney World. God, he hated those things.

As he surveyed the room, Jack finally spotted the members of his team. Well, his old team plus the new members. He guessed that meant his new team, but not his team, right? He glanced at the fruity, girlie drink. Maybe, he'd had one too many? 

Vala shadowed Daniel as the archeologist conversed with one of the top Eluetian diplomats. Bruises of worry lined her eyes, and Jack saw mirrored in her face what irritated him. This was so not right. She hovered near Daniel as if her very presence by his side would ward off the persistent fear dogging her. Jack wished it were that easy.

He nodded to Teal'c as the Jaffa moved effortlessly and silently about the room. Years of working with Teal'c told Jack that the warrior was on full alert. He was guarding them, protecting Daniel. But how the hell did you protect someone from a mental invasion? Give them a tin foil hat?

Jack smirked but kept his eyes on the crowd. The ceremony to initiate Daniel into their society was about to begin any minute now. According to the Eluetian tradition, Daniel could not undergo the mind meld – or whatever it was called – unless he was officially `one of them'. Jack rolled his eyes. If this entailed body paint and skipping naked around a fire, Jack was never going to let Daniel live it down. 

His gaze stopped on Mitchell. The easy walk of the Southerner belied his tense military focus. Jack recognized the constant scanning of the room by the younger man. He could tell by Mitchell's straight, stiff shoulders that the man didn't feel comfortable at all. Who could? Yet, Mitchell was probably more bothered by reports of the rebels from the Hinterlands catching wind of the ceremony and publicly denouncing it. If the Norellians continued their protests, things might go to hell faster than Mitchell's grandma could praise the Lord. 

Jack noticed Carter near the corner of the room, farthest away from Daniel as she set up a small surveillance station. Their hosts had no qualms about their requirement for a system to monitor all visual and audio outlets. This, in and of itself, gave Jack the willies.  Why would an alien government give them the right to set up eavesdropping equipment? Sure, they were just using it to monitor the area to ensure security, but it wasn't right. Jack gritted his teeth. So much of this wasn't right.

He'd fought long and hard with the President about allowing this proposed mission to go through, especially stating the volatile situation between the Eluetians and the Norellians. But the President was twice as adamant about getting defenses against the Ori. In the end, Jack lost, but with the concession that they would require the surveillance equipment. He'd thought that would be a showstopper for the Eluetians. Jack raised a scarred eyebrow. Boy, was he wrong!

Mitchell ambled over to him. He looked like a boy forced to dress up for Sunday Church services. He stretched his shoulders a few times as if trying to get his dress blues to fit better.

"General," Mitchell said as he nodded. "All seems to be going well."

"Fun hasn't begun yet, Mitchell."

Mitchell eyed him. 

"Feeling itchy," Jack replied, but didn't explain. How do you explain the overall feeling like you were being watched? 

"Know what you mean, sir." Mitchell gave a glower over the room. "Not one of my favorite things, knowing anyone can zero in on what I'm thinking."

Jack nodded to the younger man. He didn't tell him that it wasn't just about feeling like he was in a fish bowl on sushi night; it was something more. It was the ebb and flow of the reception. It seemed stilted. Off. There were glances and whispers by their hosts that settled on him like an unbalanced weight. He needed to talk to Daniel, get the man to realize this was a stupid idea, and then hightail it out of there.

He never had the time.

The first explosion sounded more like a pop of an air gun. The hairs on his neck rose and Jack spun around to find the source. He knew it, knew what it meant. That tiny little burst signaled the induction of something greater, something monumental. It was an initiation, the first in a series of explosions.  

People rushed about the room, yelling out and shoving. An instant later the building shuddered and swayed as the bombs blew apart its very structure. The attack rocked the foundation of the floor. It cracked, splintering and fracturing the stone tiles. The high glass windows of the receiving room ruptured. The framing of the arches groaned and shifted. The entire building heaved as it rebelled against the assault. 

Jack dove for cover; the damned attackers had wired the entire building. Bricks, steel, glass pelted him, but he found shelter under the bar. A blizzard of dust and falling girders surrounded him. He called out, wishing for his radio to connect him with his team. 

"Mitchell?" He knew the younger man was close, but he received no reply. He cursed under his breath as the building shook against another attack. This one rose from the very floor, spewing chunks of concrete into the air like a great geyser. He crawled on his hands and knees over to the tables that lined the walls. Food and drink mixed with the debris to form puddles of muck. 

"Mitchell? Carter?"

"Sir?" Carter called.

He turned around and saw Carter following behind him. "Any idea where everyone else is?"

She said, "No, sir."

"No radio, we're under attack." He peered out from their shelter and saw the last of the window frames of the opposite wall crash down into the lobby. Closing his eyes against the assault of dirt and glass shards, Jack covered his head and hoped Carter did the same.

As he stayed curled in on himself, Jack realized a quietude had descended upon the lobby. The whine of a girder falling interrupted the silence, but he knew the attack was over. Glancing up, the devastation was overwhelming. The entire side of the building had been destroyed. It looked as if a great beast had mauled one side of the building. The floor had caved inward, leaving a large pit where the center of the room had been.

Both Jack and Carter stood. He dusted off his torn dress uniform, gave up, and pulled off the jacket to toss it aside. "People, sound off. I need to know you're okay."

Several of the Eluetians looked at him dazedly. He didn't care; he wasn't talking to them right now. He'd deal with them in a minute. Jack needed to know his people were safe from the ambush. 

"I am well, O'Neill." Teal'c emerged from a small alcove to one side of the lobby. It was true, though a little dusty with gray soot, Teal'c looked unharmed.

"Daniel? Mitchell? Vala?" Jack called.

"Have a little problem here, sir." Mitchell raised a hand.

Jack realized the man was not three feet from him, but had been trapped by some of the falling debris. His right leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, obviously broken and trapped under the support beams. To his credit, Mitchell didn't flinch as Teal'c went to assist him.

"Daniel?" Carter called. "Vala?"

The Eluetian ambassador, Maji Al, started to cry out for his people. An assistant scuttled behind him, pulling broken walling and bricks from piles as people were discovered and assessed.

"Daniel?" Jack said again. His fear crashed into his chest with every minute Daniel didn't answer. 

"It's Daniel," Vala said as she came running into the room, climbing over the piles of broken glass and bricks. The shards cut her hands and, even as Carter attempted to help her, Vala scrambled to Jack's side, letting the sharp edges slice her. "Help, you have to help!"

"Vala, is Daniel hurt? Did he get caught in the explosion?" Carter asked.

"What?" Vala looked around as if seeing the wreck of the lobby for the first time. "Oh, what happened here?" She blinked once and refocused on her original intent. "No, no. We weren't here when this happened, whatever happened. What happened?"

"You weren't here?" Jack said. He grabbed a hold of her shoulders and gave her a little shake. "What the hell? Where's Daniel?"

Vala gave a little squeal but her eyes never glimmered. The darkness marring them told Jack everything he needed to know. When she spoke, she only confirmed his fears. "I don't know. They took him. Daniel's been abducted."


	2. Part 2 by AnnieB

Daniel forced his eyes open, a groan seeping past his lips as his head pounded in reaction to the light. He blinked, trying to clear his blurred vision, then took a surreptitious look around.

He was in a small room, lying on the floor. He wriggled his arms and feet, grateful that he wasn't tied up. Pushing himself clumsily up, he sat for a moment as nausea surged and bile tickled the back of his throat. Swallowing it down, he took deep breaths of the fetid air and tried to get his stomach under control. The headache and nausea alone told him he had a concussion, but he seemed to be relatively unharmed apart from that.

Digging the heels of his hands into his eyes in a futile attempt to quell the raging pain in his head, he tried to think back to remember what had happened, how he came to be here, alone. The concussion made his memory spotty at best, but he remembered being at the Eluetian reception, remembered Jack's anger at what Daniel was about to do, what he felt he needed to do.

Jack had barely spoken to him most of the night though Daniel knew he'd been watching him carefully. He'd seen Jack talking to Mitchell and Jack had looked over at him at the same time Daniel looked up, and Daniel knew Jack was going to try one more time to talk him out of doing what the Eluetians wanted.

Not wanting to get into an argument now, just before the ceremony, knowing instinctively that he needed his mind to be clear and unencumbered by emotions such as frustration and anger, Daniel had left the room, heading outside for a moment to breathe some clear air and settle his thoughts.

He'd heard Vala call his name as he left and hastened his footsteps, not in the mood for talking to her either. He remembered feeling annoyed that none of his team seemed to understand that he just needed some time alone, before the ceremony, before his mind was probed and he gave up secrets he couldn't even remember keeping.

"Doctor Jackson?" A polite voice called his name just as his arm was grabbed, and he turned just in time to see a fist flying towards his face. He ducked, but there was someone else behind him and he stumbled back and found his arms hauled behind his back.

Distantly he heard a thundering crash coming from inside the building he'd left and he struggled to break free of his captor, to get back inside to help his team.

Vala was screaming his name and he turned his head, watching as she ran toward him.

"Enough!" a voice growled out. "Take him!"

Daniel broke free momentarily, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the pebbly ground. He went to his knees, tried to rise, and then there was a sudden, awful pain in his head and everything went black.

He touched the side of his head now, wincing at the tenderness of the lump there. His fingertips came away bloodstained, which meant, he deduced, that he hadn't been out long enough for the wound to stop bleeding. He made it to his knees, and then to his feet and stood, swaying, as he tried to gain his equilibrium. His stomach churned with nausea again and he fought it down, fixing his eyes steadfastly on the door across the room, then made his way to it and began pounding on it with his fist.

Eventually, just as he'd almost given up, he heard footsteps heading toward him. They stopped on the outside of his cell.

"Stand back," a voice commanded.

Daniel obeyed, rubbing his bruised knuckles with his other hand, moving back so there was a clear space between himself and the door.

The door slammed back on its hinges, the forceful shove obviously intended to knock him off his feet if he hadn't moved away. He held his hands out from his sides in a gesture of surrender as a huge behemoth of a man entered the room.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The man turned and nodded at the other man with him and then Daniel was knocked to his knees by a fist in his face.

He stayed where he was, hunched over, trying to reorient himself, waiting for his head to stop spinning and for the darkness encroaching on his vision to recede. "I'm sorry," he rasped, keeping his head bowed, "I meant no disrespect."

The big man snorted. "Apology accepted... this time. You speak when you are spoken to, Daniel Jackson."

Daniel looked up into his captor's face. "May I ask a question?" he said deferentially, lowering his eyes to the ground and flinching in anticipation of another blow.

The man laughed. "You have courage and determination. No wonder the Eluetians want to use your mind," he replied. "Ask."

"What do you want with me?" Daniel asked, letting his eyes meet those of his jailer.

"You are a hostage, Daniel Jackson. If the Eluetians do not give us what we want, you will be killed."


	3. Part 3 by Cleo the Muse

" _Just don't let Jackson out of your sight, okay?_ "

It wasn't an admonishment Vala particularly needed, as she had every intention of sticking to Daniel's side like the proverbial glob of glue. So far, she'd kept her word, trailing him around and around the reception like a faithful little puppy, deliberately ignoring the looks of annoyance he gave her every time he turned around to find her practically on his heels.

Something about all of this was just _not right_. She was unable to pin down any one thing that was the source of her discomfort, since several different factors clamored for the unenviable position of "most disturbing".

First, there was the fact that Daniel seemed to be just as uncomfortable with what he'd agreed to as any member of SG-1 up to and including General O'Neill, but was still willing to let someone take a crack at all the bazillion different things that were apparently crammed inside his occasionally-thick skull. Her own recent experience with the attempted extrication of blocked memories hadn't gone well at all, leaving her incapable of doing anything but waiting tables at Sol's Diner. In fact, no technology would be involved in this endeavor, only the insinuations of alien mind-readers.

That was the second thing that bothered her. From all the missions Vala had studied so far, the SGC and SG-1 in particular had never had good experiences with having their minds read, probed, or otherwise manipulated. Besides, if her Ori-empowered daughter Adria had been thwarted in her attempt to extract information from Daniel about the weapon at Dakara, what hope did the Eluetians have in discovering deliberately blocked subconscious memories? Granted, Daniel had been trying to resist then, and _presumably_ would not be now, so that might not mean anything. Given the edge of nervousness he had exhibited ever since the decision was made, though, she doubted he would be able to relax easily.

Last, but probably most importantly of all, there was a niggling since of wrongness in the atmosphere. Oh, the mood in the gala was friendly enough and the ambassador and all the dignitaries were polite and welcoming, but Vala had long ago learned to trust her instincts. Right now, her sense of self-preservation was clamoring for her attention. A quick glance at the quietly conversing O'Neill and Mitchell told her that they, too, sensed the same indefinable something as she. Teal'c had just been ensnared in conversation by a group of awe-struck young men, doubtlessly hounding the Jaffa to regale them with tales of battles waged and his adventures with the Tau'ri. He was polite in his replies but impatient, the muscles in his jaw twitching. Samantha and her surveillance equipment were tucked away in one corner and tiny lines of tension creased the woman's face as she worked with the complex electronics.

Suddenly, Vala realized that Daniel was no longer next to her. Cursing herself for her inattention, she swept the room quickly, catching sight of the lobby door closing and a glimpse of motion in the darkness outside the windows. In her haste to cross the floor, she bumped into several bodies, muttering quick apologies as she pushed her way toward the entrance.

"Daniel!" she shouted as soon as she was outside, wondering what had possessed him to walk down the pebbled path toward the gardens. If all he wanted was some fresh air after the stifling confines of the reception, he could have gotten all he could breathe from right next to the door. The line of his shoulders tightened visibly, and she knew that he was deliberately ignoring her call.

A lengthening of one of the shadows was her only warning, and she found herself kicking off her impractical heels, hiking up her skirts, and running hard before she could register exactly what kind of warning it was. The shapes coalesced into three figures surrounding Daniel, one attempting to strike him while the other two pinned his arms and shoulders.

There was a sudden, tremendous force at her back, pushing her forward and nearly on her face. She rolled with the blast, coming up on her knees and scrambling to her feet again, screaming out Daniel's name when she saw one of the kidnappers draw out a short billy club like the ones the Eluetian Peace Keepers carried.

A second explosion rocked the air, quickly followed by another, then another. Something struck her in the back of the leg, her right knee crumpling under her weight and bringing her crashing to the ground. Despite her attempts to curl into a protective ball, her head hit something hard and a bright line of pain cut across her vision.

She wasn't sure how long she lay on the ground gasping for air, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. As soon as her head cleared enough to remember Daniel being grabbed, she sat up, then fell to the side, retching miserably. Finally, she was able to quell her nausea enough to look toward the garden.

Daniel was gone.

Cursing, Vala rolled to her knees, pushing off the ground until she was once more wobbling on her feet. Warmth trickled down the back of her right thigh but she ignored it, staggering determinedly toward the reception hall to round up the other members of the team so they could all go after the kidnappers.

"It's Daniel!" she called out, fighting her way back into the room just as she'd had to push to get out earlier. She didn't waste the breath for apologies this time. "Help! You have to help!"

"Vala, is Daniel hurt? Did he get caught in the explosion?" Samantha asked, suddenly at her side and tugging at her arm to help her to where the rest of the team waited.

"What?" Explosion? Confused, she looked around, startled to realize that it hadn't been people she'd been battling to get past, but piles of debris. "Oh, what happened here?"

Frankly, it looked like... an explosion, of course. Or several explosions, really, given what she could remember from outside. She blinked in surprise, realizing that whatever blasts had wrecked the lobby of the reception hall were probably what had made her stumble and fall. "No, no. We weren't here when this happened, whatever happened. What happened?"

"You weren't here?" O'Neill growled, fingers digging painfully into her bared shoulders. "What the hell? Where's Daniel?"

An unintentional cry of pain escaped her, the room swimming dizzyingly as her aching head protested the motion. "I don't know!" she protested. "They took him. Daniel's been abducted."

"Who has done this?" Teal'c demanded.

"I-I don't know. He went outside, went down to the garden. Suddenly there were three people around him. I... I didn't see where they went."

"Why the hell not?"

"Sir, she's injured," Mitchell soothed, voice sounding strangely distant, as though below her. Vala turned in confusion before realizing he was down on the ground. He looked pale and uncomfortable, sitting beside a pile of debris and hunched protectively over one leg.

"Who isn't?" O'Neill retorted, then scrubbed his hands through his dust-filled hair. "Damn it. Okay, sit down before you _fall_ down."

Suddenly cognizant of her wounds, Vala swayed and would have fallen if Teal'c hadn't swiftly caught her, lowering her to sit next to Mitchell. The pale blue gown she and Samantha had carefully picked to coordinate with the Air Force officers' dress uniforms was torn and dirty, smeared with mud, grass stains, blood, and who knew what all else. Her hands and feet were crisscrossed with painful cuts, and it wasn't until she took in the broken pieces of glass, brick, and steel that she realized she'd climbed her way through it in her bare feet.

"Miss? Will you let us help you, Miss?"

She turned and blinked up at the earnest expressions on the faces of a pair of young women she didn't recognize. "What?"

"They're medics," Mitchell explained, carefully flexing the leg he'd been guarding earlier. "Damn good ones, too."

"Oh. Okay."

One of the women took her firmly by the chin, turning her to meet her gaze. A sudden sensation of warmth and comfort swept through her, cancelling out the pain and replacing it with its soothing radiance. She closed her eyes and let the feelings wash over her. When it abruptly faded, she blinked in surprise, watching as the second of the two women began to remove a pair of glove-like objects and tuck them into her hip-pouch.

The cuts on her hands had closed, though she could see tiny pink lines of new skin where they had once been. Astonished, she tugged up the hem of her tattered dress to eye freshly-healed feet and knees. Whatever devices the medics had used, it was far better than a Goa'uld healing device, especially with the accompanying feel-good sensation.

"We'll take two of those," she muttered in amazement.

The first medic shook her head. "I'm afraid it won't work for your people." She and her partner were then off to aid the other wounded, and O'Neill, Maji Al, and a man dressed in the uniform of an Eluetian Peace Keeper swooped in to fill their place.

"What did they look like?" O'Neill asked.

"Who?"

He glared at her impatiently. "The _kidnappers_."

The memory of what had just transpired suddenly flooded her mind. "Daniel!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, _Daniel_ ," he snapped, and she flushed in embarrassment. O'Neill hadn't looked this upset with her even when she'd practically abducted Daniel with the Goa'uld _kor'mak_ bracelets over a year ago. "Who grabbed him?"

"That should be obvious," replied the Keeper. "The Norellians, of course."

"I was asking _Vala_." His ire was clearly not for her alone.

"I didn't see them," she answered, swallowing hard. "I mean, not very well. There were three of them, but it was dark and I couldn't make out more than their shapes. They were all very big, muscular men, at least the size of Teal'c. Daniel didn't stand a chance against them."

"Where were you?"

"Trying to get to him. He was almost to the entrance to the garden when they grabbed him."

The general muttered an epithet under his breath. "You'd think, after ten friggin' _years_ the man would've learned to not wander off on his own!"

"He probably stepped out to get some fresh air, sir," Mitchell suggested. "It was just bad luck none of us noticed."

"Except Vala."

Vala frowned. "But we were all watching him. I mean, I noticed the two of you looking his way all night. Samantha and Mus-Teal'c, too. Where are they, anyway?"

"Questioning other possible witnesses," O'Neill answered.

"I _told_ you to not let him out of your sight!" Mitchell reminded her.

She ducked her head, looking down at her polished toenails in embarrassment. "I know. I know... and I didn't. At least not until he started talking to one of the scientists, anyway. They were going on and _on_ about the effect of gender on telepathy-something about women being better suited to empathy than men."

"Yes, this is very true," Maji Al agreed. "That is why most of our healers are women."

"Anyway," she continued, giving the ambassador a glare for his unwelcome interruption, "he started talking to this scientist, and I got a little bored. I looked to see where the rest of you were. You and you—" she indicated the two officers "—were holding up the bar, Teal'c had just been accosted by some new groupies, and Samantha was apparently having trouble with her gadgets. I turned around and he was gone."

"Was anyone with him?" the Keeper asked.

"No. Once I realized he'd gone outside, I pushed through the crowd to catch up. He was already halfway down the path, and ignored me when I called his name."

O'Neill looked ready to punch someone. "Of all the times to throw a tantrum..."

"Jackson throws tantrums?"

"What, he never has with you?"

Mitchell shook his head. "Sure, he gets pretty pissy at times—especially when Vala's ragging him—"

"Hey!"

"—But I wouldn't call them 'tantrums', sir."

The general's frown deepened. "Come to think of it, I can't remember him getting _really_ fired up about anything since he descended... the first time."

A sudden thought struck Vala. "Ambassador, the healers said that their little glove things wouldn't work for our kind. Does it mean they're telepathically controlled?"

"Of course. The user must—"

"And the euphoric feeling that comes with it... that's a part of it, too?"

The Keeper officer shook his head. "That is why healers always work in pairs. One distracts the mind of the patient with feelings of comfort and warmth while the other accelerates the body's natural healing process. It could be quite painful without the—"

"I thought you said you people couldn't just mess around with other people's minds!" O'Neill protested.

Maji Al flushed. "A healer always asks permission, General, and projecting comfort is hardly dangerous nor an invasion of privacy."

"What about projecting other things?" Vala asked. "Say, something along the lines of 'walk outside and down to the garden'?"

"Like a compulsion," Mitchell realized, "or a hypnotic suggestion."

The Keeper shook his head. "That is impossible."

"Why?" O'Neill demanded. "How much different is it from sending happy thoughts to something a little more specific?"

"Not much different at all," replied Maji Al. "The problem, General, is that it couldn't have happened in this case."

Vala closed her eyes. "The Norellians don't have telepathic abilities, do they?" The silence which greeted her gave her all the answer she needed.

"Son of a bitch," exclaimed Mitchell. "That's why they don't like you guys, isn't it? You have freaky mind powers and they don't?"

"It is but one grievance," the ambassador admitted.

"Then you have a bigger problem than you realize," Vala concluded. "I can't be a hundred-percent sure, but I think Daniel was taken down by one of your Keeper clubs. This kidnapping was an inside job."


	4. Part 4 by Diney

The heavy wooden door slammed shut and the lock clicked.  Daniel was alone again.  So many questions vying for a place in his head.  Not one answer.  He didn't even know his captor's name.  Who had taken him?  He presumed the Norellians, but why?  The Norellians were supposed to be the bad guys, weren't they?  Where was he? The Hinterlands? Who would find him here?  Why did he go off like that anyway?  He could've asked Jack for space.  Jack would have understood. Jack was always warning him about running off, but the Eluetians wouldn't hurt him — would they? He wasn't sure anymore. Daniel thought he might have recognised the man who hit him.  Was that a Keeper club he had seen? No, couldn't have been. He felt so confused at the moment. Most important of all, what was that explosion and what had happened to his friends?

Daniel listened quietly to the receding footsteps.  When he thought all was quiet, he tentatively tried the door latch.  Nothing.  He tried again, only more forcefully this time.  Still nothing.

Frustrated, Daniel turned to a pile of grey blankets in the corner of the room and kicked out.  That accomplished nothing, as particles of dust and earth flew up in Daniel's face and he sneezed.  "Ah!" he cried out as he held his head and willed the hammer inside to quit.

"This is useless," he said to the empty space.  

Daniel leaned against the cold concrete wall and slid gradually down to the even colder grimy floor.  He brought his knees up and cupped his head in his hands. He closed his eyes and he wondered what had happened at the reception.  He tried to picture where all of his friends were as he left. Sam was in the corner, doing what she did best, setting up the surveillance station. Teal'c was mingling, trying to look inconspicuous. Both Teal'c and Mitchell looked uncomfortable in their fancy get up and looked like they would rather be anywhere else, just name the planet.  Vala had been put on Daniel watch.  He knew that.  Jack, he knew, was in the hall. Every now and then Jack would give him evil looks while sipping his pink drink, trying to make nice with the natives.  

Daniel knew that Jack was having a hard time accepting this 'mind—meld', as Jack called it.  He knew he'd upset Jack, but hey what was new? Didn't mean they weren't friends or weren't there for each other when it was needed.  He could always count on Jack.  Like this mission, Jack just had to be there.  Trouble was, even when Jack was there, situations often got 'squirrelly', like now. Daniel thought he was a big boy and could look after himself.  But sometimes it was good to have a little support. 

Daniel huffed and looked around.  'Yeah, Jack, I didn't see this one coming, did I?  I bet you're giving them hell by now,' he thought.  'That's if you're Okay.  Yes of course you are.'  Daniel wouldn't have it any other way.  He knew he heard one explosion, was there more than one? Were his friends all in the hall? 

Oh my God! They were all in the reception hall when it exploded.

Daniel was finding it too hard to think as his vision clouded in. He leaned to the side and flopped onto the soiled blankets.  Daniel's last thoughts before oblivion claimed him were of his friends and family dying in the explosion.  He was alone again.

.......................................

Jack was pacing back and forth, getting nowhere fast. He was steadily wearing out what was left of the floor surface.  Frustrated and angry, he was ready to start seriously kicking alien butts.  Whether they were supposed to be friendly or not.

Teal'c and Carter had come back with nothing.  Their questions had brought no answers, only more questions.  There didn't seem to be any witnesses to Daniel's disappearance.  That in itself was odd.  The Eluetians were definitely hiding something as well as their mind games, but he couldn't at the moment think what it was. Only Vala saw Daniel escape the party on his own. That just didn't seem right.

As soon as Jack had seen Mitchell and Vala healed by their host nurses, Jack had stormed to the Stargate and consulted with General Landry. Although the General was sympathetic, he didn't, at this minute, feel the need to send in a Search and Rescue team, which would possibly aggravate their new allies.  He reminded Jack that it had been Dr. Jackson's decision to go through with this procedure and that he was sure that Dr. Jackson could look after himself.  He totally understood what had happened and Jack's position. Maybe as Jack was on the planet, he could find out some information first before going in with all guns blazing as Jack had suggested.

Jack was quietly fuming.  Cross with Daniel for wanting to single—handedly save humanity all the time.  Cross with him for wandering off on his own.  Cross with Landry for not sending in the troops.  The General was sending some help for 'their new allies', just they were not to be at Jack's disposal. Mostly though Jack was cross with himself: for not being there to listen to Daniel when he was needed.  He was cross for not being at Daniel's side, for allowing him to step out of the party with no cover.  Oh, he didn't blame Vala.  She, out of all of them, was totally dedicated to Daniel, he knew that.

No, he was to blame. If he had been in tune to Daniel's wishes all along, he wouldn't be here now, still pacing.  He needed a plan to find his oh too trusting, single—minded, obstinate friend.  He slammed his hand on the grubby table in temper.  That did no good at all except to create a cloud of dust.

'His best friend.  Probably the best friend that he'd ever had. '  

"Where are you, Daniel?  How many times do I have to tell you not to go running off like that?  How many times?"  Jack ran his dirty hand through his hair.

"Hang in there, buddy.  We'll find you, Daniel, I promise,"  Jack vowed. "We need you here.  You can do it, just hang on."

Jack turned around sharply as he thought he heard a soft echo.

'I can do this.  Jack, I'll find you.  I need you guys.  I can do this.'

"Daniel?"

Collecting his thoughts, Jack found only Teal'c beside him. 

"Did you hear that, Teal'c?"  Jack queried.  "Did anyone hear that?"  

"I did not, O'Neill." Teal'c's strong arm rested on Jack's shoulder and grim determination was in his eyes.

"What, sir?"  Carter looked towards Mitchell and Vala, puzzled.

"We will find him, O'Neill, together."  Jack looked around into troubled faces and realised that the burden didn't just rest with him to find his friend.  Daniel was their friend too.  He affected all of them.  He nodded at the resolute stance of Daniel's team.  They were ready.  They would shift heaven and earth to find Daniel for without him they were lost.

"Time for plan A," he said.

...............................................

How long he had been out this time, Daniel couldn't really tell.  There was no outside light at all.  They had taken his watch along with everything else.  Thank heaven they had left his glasses.  His eyes were itchy enough due to the dusty atmosphere without having to deal with blurry vision as well. He was getting cold, and although he still had a headache, he was slightly hungry.  Putting his hand to his head again, he felt that the blood had stopped and a crust was forming.  He'd been here too long.  He had to do something.  He had to get out to see what was happening to his friends.  He had to organise his thoughts; assess the situation.  What was Jack always saying? 'Time for plan A'.  His team was just fine, they had to be.  

Gone were the lonely, desperate thoughts of the hours before, back was the determined, stubborn man that Jack called a pain in the ass. Jack, Daniel thought, well, there's no bigger pain than him when he's motivated.  Jack will move heaven and earth to find me.  He knew they all would.  Their closeness was what made their team work on so many levels. He included Jack in his team as well.  Just because Jack spent most of his time parading around the high offices in Washington these days didn't mean to say that he wasn't part of Daniel's team.  Without his friends, Daniel was lost.

Daniel looked at his escape route. Hopefully, his captors were not going to let him starve to death, so that meant someone would come with food.  Plan A, he could ambush his guards when they came through the door. But when would they come?  How long would he have to wait?  Daniel wasn't keen on waiting and thinking.  Certainly not on his own, not now he had a family, and they needed him now just as much as he needed them.  "Time for plan B," he said.

Daniel surveyed the four walls.  There didn't seem to be any escape, but that didn't mean it was hopeless. There was without a doubt, air coming from somewhere. Just a question of finding it. Daniel got up carefully, and began to look closely, and feel along the walls of the grey bunker.  The concrete slabs were laid close together and not one moved until...  He thought he felt it move, just a fraction.  He thought he felt air.

"Open up."  Daniel cringed at the loud callous voice coming through the door.

"Stand back."  

Daniel stopped fiddling with the wall, hoping that whoever came in wouldn't notice the small crack behind him.  He turned to see the wooden obstacle creak back on its hinges.

"Sit." The voice belonged to his nameless captor.  With two guards blocking the opening, Daniel didn't stand a chance of escape that way.

Daniel complied and eased himself onto the floor.  His eyes met Hulk, as he was going to name him.  'Jack would be proud,' he thought.  

Hulk stood staring down with his hands behind his back.  His eyes seemed to pierce right into Daniel's thoughts.

"You must eat, and drink."  Hulk ordered the guard to put down his tray.  

Daniel never took his eyes off the huge man in front of him.  He said nothing.

"You are quiet today, Dr. Jackson," Hulk snarled.

Daniel began to get up, continuing to stare defiantly at this revolting man.  Instantly his arms were pulled behind him and he was brought up further by the two guards.  He was face to face with Hulk.

"Who are you?"  Daniel forced his voice to be steady.  He readied himself for the blow.  Just as expected, a fist slammed across the side of his face.  Daniel recoiled and winced.  His wound opened up and blood started to trickle down his cheek.  Daniel steadied himself and doggedly kept going.  "Who do you work for?  What do you want? Where am I?"

The guard was about to deliver another blow when he was waved off by his leader.

Hulk laughed. "You do not need to know."  

Daniel's captor puffed up his chest and took a measured step forward.  He squeezed Daniel's cheeks and breathed into his face. "Do not forget I am in charge here.  If I get what I want, I may let you live long enough to go to your friends' funerals."

Daniel felt his stomach churn at the words and Hulk's rank breath assaulted his nostrils.  He forced his nightmarish thoughts down into the darkness where they belonged.  He needed to keep calm, keep positive. 

"Was it you that set the explosion?" Daniel asked cautiously, trying to shake his head away from the vice like grip.  A soaring pain lanced through his skull.  Daniel gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes.

"I preferred it when you were quiet." Without warning, Hulk let go.  He kicked Daniel's legs from under him and pushed him to the floor.

Daniel slumped across the blankets, but looked up, still defiant.

"They're still alive," he said vehemently.

A hard boot connected with Daniel's side and he rolled towards the wall.  Daniel couldn't help himself; he crunched up, his arms wrapped around his body and sucked in a breath. 

"I doubt that — no one could survive that blast."  His captors sniggered and left the room.  The door clamped shut as the guard turned the lock.

Daniel hugged his abused body and wiped his sleeve over his cut.  He lay there, willing the pain away.  He carefully put his hand into his pockets, hoping to find the blister pack of pills he usually kept there.  Even his pockets were empty.  "Damn them." Daniel rocked to ease his pain, but it only partially helped.

"I know they're alive.  They have to be," Daniel whispered.  He couldn't see them any other way.  Alive and searching for him.  He knew it.  However many disagreements they had, however much they annoyed each other, there was one thing for sure.  Jack and his friends would find him.  He would trust that forever.

Daniel leaned carefully over and pulled a piece of bread from the plate. The doughy mixture did nothing to settle his stomach.  One bite was all Daniel could take.  He sniffed the water and tasted it.  That would have to do.  His stomach gurgled and turned a somersault but Daniel managed to keep the meagre contents at bay.  He thought that it was about time to get out of here and give his friends a little help.  They probably didn't know where to start looking for him.

Daniel went back to the cold slab, still clutching his stomach.  He was certain a piece of the wall had moved. Cautiously, Daniel pushed the concrete.  It gave slowly, making its way down the wall.  Daniel glanced back at the door, afraid someone had heard the grating sound.  When he looked back, the slab had revealed a dark opening, barely big enough for a body to go through.  

Daniel froze.  Should he go or stay and wait? For a moment he was unsure.  He poked his head into the unwelcoming gloom and chanced a breath.  Yep, it was air all right, from somewhere deep in the tunnel, but there was no light.

Daniel straightened up and took a bigger breath.  He willed his nerves to settle and his head to finally stop its throbbing.  He had entered passages like this one loads of times on digs, no problem. But he'd always had a light with him and wasn't being hounded by aliens. Daniel took a fleeting look again at the only other means of escape.  He thought he heard the sound of footsteps and shouts but he couldn't be certain.

Decision made, Daniel scrambled warily, arms and head first, into the tunnel. As he started to slither over the dusty ground, the concrete block began to close over behind him.  Daniel didn't want to look, he had to keep going.  As Daniel saw the last flicker of light die out, his heart started to beat in rhythm with the constant low hammering in his head and the ache in his side. He breathed.  He needed to calm his near panic.  "Fresh air," he said. "I can do this." 

For a moment he thought he heard gunfire and angry voices.  Was it his rescuers or his captors?  He couldn't tell.  He thought that the noise came from further along the tunnel.  He crawled, pulling his legs over the stones, only barely aware of the cuts and bruises he was now collecting to match the ones he already had.

"I can do this," Daniel repeated.  "Jack, I'll find you.  I need you guys.  I can do this."

Just then he swore he heard another voice.

"Hang in there, buddy.  We'll find you, Daniel, I promise.  We need you here.  You can do it, just hang on."

"Jack?"  But the voice was only an echo in the air.

With positive and firm hope, Daniel made his way into the darkness.


	5. Part 5 by taylyn10

"It's your move."

"What?"

"It's your move, Daniel. Unless you just want to concede the game now."

"Concede? What game?"

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Are you okay? You want me to get Frasier?" 

Daniel looked down at the chessboarrd spread out in front of him and then at the bare grey walls of the room, the dull Air Force drab telling him he was in a VIP room in the mountain. The chess board — and Jack — were a few feet away.

"You'd rather play gin? As soon as I kick your butt here, I'll let you play gin."

"I'm not very good at gin."

Jack's warm grin made him smile back, and then it faded. This wasn't right. Well, it was sort of right, many, many years ago. But it wasn't right, now. 

"You know, you'd be more relaxed if you'd sit down." Jack gestured to the chair across from him.

Not knowing what else to do, Daniel sat. He stared at the board in front of him. With care, he was only a couple of moves away from checkmate. He reached out to finger a pawn. Jack reached down and did the same.

"If you want to... talk, Daniel, you can. Talk. I mean, I'll listen. If there's anything you want to... say."

Jack wants to talk? Daniel thought with surprise. No, Jack wants me to talk. This wasn't right. He pulled his hand away from the chessboard.

"I am here if you wish to talk, Daniel Jackson."

"Teal'c?" He looked around. Jack, the room, and the board were gone.

"I'm am always honored when you join me in my meditation."

"Um... thank you. I —" Daniel stopped, tucking his now empty hand in his pocket, not knowing what to say. The room felt warm and welcoming, as it usually did when he joined Teal'c in meditation. The candles in the somber room flickered with their usual radiance, illuminating Teal'c's gentle face. But Daniel felt ill at ease in the glow. Something... wasn't right. He took his hand out of his pocket and reached for the flame of one of the candles, feeling its warmth tickle his fingers. Why didn't this feel right?

"Sit, Daniel."

He pulled his hand back. "I think I'll stand for now." 

"It is difficult to talk, standing. Will you not join me in kel'no'reem?" Teal'c extended a warm brown hand, inviting Daniel to the cushions on the floor.

Daniel took a step back. "I thought you told me once that kel'no'reem needed silence."

"There is a time for silence, my friend, and a time for conversation. Your conversations with me in the past have saved my life, and that of my son. Will you not sit now and talk to me?" 

Daniel eyed the cushion, tempted to let himself sink into its softness and rest. He and Teal'c often enjoyed one another's company in this way. He gave in and knelt on the floor.

"Well, are you going to feed me or not?"

"I — Of course I'll feed you. I — Give me a minute to —" He found himself sitting in an uncomfortable chair in a military mess hall. 

"You don't even give a girl time to freshen up, although seeing me naked no doubt freshened you up." Vala batted her eyelashes at him as she sat across from him at a table covered with an unusual assortment of food from chips to bottled water. 

She rolled an apple his direction. He watched as it wobbled past him and fell onto the floor.

"You sure you don't want one?" She picked up another apple and took a bite big enough to make her cheeks puff out. Around that mouthful of food, she said, "What? I'm hungry. You'd be a much better conversationalist, you know, if you ate more. Hunger is no doubt responsible for your current bad mood."

"Being around you is responsible for my current bad mood."

The mess hall of the Prometheus glinted a metallic grey, from the table to the chairs to the bare grey walls. Only Vala sitting opposite him with a crooked grin on her face broke the monotony of the room.

She started to rise and Daniel waved his zat gun at her, gesturing for her to sit back down. "I'd be willing to sit on your lap and feed you grapes. How's that?" She sat on the edge of the chair and waved a bunch of purple fruit in front of him. "You can eat, and while I'm wiping your mouth, you and I can chat and get to know one another." She held out her hand, crooking a finger to invite him to her side of the table.

"I'm not in the mood for talking." Daniel blinked and looked down at the zat. How did he come to have a zat in his hand? Of course, he'd had a zat on the Prometheus, but that was... a long time ago. And he knew Vala very well now, better than anyone else on the base, and much to his annoyance, she knew him very well. In typical Vala fashion, she knew all of SG1 very well. 

"I wanted SG—1. Not two letters a dash and a number."

"Colonel Mitchell?"

"Dr. Jackson. It's a pleasure —"

"Daniel," he interrupted, extending his hand. Suddenly, startled by the memory that wasn't a memory, he pulled back his hand before Mitchell could shake it.

"I'm asking you to stay and rejoin SG1. We need you." Mitchell stuck his hand in his pocket, pulling out the keys to Daniel's apartment. "General O'Neill promised me that I could have whatever I wanted, and what I want is you to stay to help me get the band back together. Let's go get some coffee and we'll talk it over. What do you say?" Smiling, Mitchell let the keys dangle. The hand waved the keys in front of him, the motion of them a glint against the grey of his almost empty office. 

He was ready to go to Atlantis, the last of the boxes packed around him. This wasn't right. The Prometheus had left for Atlantis without him.

"Do you think you've got the translations right, Daniel? These are technical schematics that we can't afford to get wrong."

The grey of his office morphed into the grey of Sam's lab. "Sam?" She was bent over a work table in her lab, looking at the insides of a surveillance robot. 

"I'll be damned if I can figure out what they say. Mission logs, most likely. What do you think?"

Daniel looked at the scrolling information. "It's a lot of data."

"It's too much to take in, isn't it? Too much to control all at once." 

"What?"

She straightened and moved to stand beside him. Not Sam. Oma DeSala. 

"Your journey has just begun, Daniel. Let me tell you its beginnings and you may tell me where you wish it to take you. Talk to me, Daniel." 

"Oma?" The gate room looked empty and bleak around him with the huge circle standing grey and motionless beside him. He stared at it, wondering how he'd come to be there.

"Teach me, my Danyel, my husband. Tell me what is in your heart."

He gasped. "Sha're? Oh, my God! Sha're." She stood on the other side of the Stargate in the pyramid on Abydos. He put out his hand to reach for her.

Another voice made him turn to see a lone figure standing on the broad sands of Abydos. "You won't be alone, Danyel. We will not fail, my brother. Tell me what to do."

"Skaara?"

He turned back, reaching out his hand to gather Sha're to him when the vision faded. Daniel's hand rested on the rough wall of a small tunnel. He was on his hands and knees, and Skaara was gone. He inhaled sharply. Gone long ago, he thought. And his beautiful Sha're, gone so very long ago. There were no grey walls, no office, no lab, no Stargate, just grey stone pressed close around him and bits of his subconscious battering at his brain. There was no help, no team. He blinked, finally noticing the pale light just ahead of him, wondering as he did so, if he was losing his mind.

He crawled a little farther along the tunnel toward the light, hoping that he'd find an opening at the end of it. He would be willing to handle insanity if he could do it out of this tunnel. He could handle it better if he had his team. He remembered his promise to whatever vision had prompted him to escape. He'd told Jack he could do this and he could — maybe. 

"Jack," he muttered, "where the hell am I?" He noticed the grating in front of him and, peering over his shoulder, a long corridor behind him, but he had no recollection of anything after moving the stone to get into the tunnel. Only disconnected thoughts about his team, old memories somehow distorted from what he knew to be true. And now he was at the end of a tunnel with no recollection of how he'd come to be here.

He turned back to look through a small grate at his first real glimpse of daylight since his abduction from the Eleutians. 

"Oh, no," he sighed. He was looking down a hillside on what must be an army encampment spread in an orderly fashion across the valley. The uniforms looked different from the ones he'd seen at the reception but he'd been in a military base for enough years to know an army when he saw one. The purposeful way the soldiers went about their duties told Daniel that preparations were under way for some major military maneuver. He wondered if these were the Norellians.

Suddenly, the realization that he was alone, without supplies, in the middle of... He didn't even know where — or what — he was in the middle of... made his head pound. Injuries, ignored or forgotten — forgotten, he supposed, because he seemed to have forgotten everything since leaving his prison cell — reared up to sap every ounce of strength he had. He leaned against the tunnel wall carefully, his head turned to keep anneye on the valley below.

"Well, one thing's for sure," he whispered harshly, "I'm not in Kansas anymore. At least I'm pretty sure it's not Kansas. Not flat enough." He let his head rest against the cool wall, and closed his eyes. "I'll have to ask Cam when I see him again — if we're in Kansas, I mean." With that, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

***********************

"General, did you ask me something?" Cam asked.

O'Neill glanced his way. "Mitchell, all I've been trying to do for the last five minutes is get Vala to leave me alone so I can check this map and figure out where the hell we are. I haven't had enough peace and quiet to ask anybody anything."

Mitchell frowned. He wondered who had called him. He looked around their campsite, from Vala hovering by O'Neill's impromptu desk to Teal'c in the middle of repacking supplies, to Sam checking their radios. If none of his team mates had called him, who had?

Seeing his confusion, Sam called to him. "Cam? You okay?"

"I don't know. I could have sworn somebody just asked me if we were in Kansas." 


	6. Part 6 by Carlyn

"What is this Kansas?" Maji Al tilted his face up towards that of the tall, slim woman standing at his side, to whom the query was addressed.

Adria turned to the ambassador, staring down at him as though he were some lowly life form crawling from a slimy bog rather than the most revered diplomat of the Eluetian people. She said nothing, only hardened her stony glare.

Maji Al tipped his head in wonder. "Are the Ori not all-knowing as your Prior said?" he added, careful to keep his intense dislike for the invader out of his voice.

Adria's eyes narrowed further. "You had best mind your tongue," she sneered, twitching her fingers in his direction, "I may need you to get at the information Daniel Jackson has hidden in his mind, but once that goal has been attained, you will cease to be useful to me."

Raising a hand to his throat, his eyes widening minutely at the look of utter menace in the lovely young woman's dark eyes, Maji Al swallowed hard – now that he was able. He firmly pulled his lips together and turned back to watch the activity on the other side of the room, frightened into silence by the brief tightening of his trachea, and her emphasis on the word 'cease.' 

Maji Al gazed with regret at the now still form of Daniel Jackson. As the team of telepaths tickled the archaeologist's subconscious – one implanting false memories of Norellian kidnappers and escape tunnels, the other imposing images designed to encourage Daniel to divulge the secrets locked within his brain – their captive mostly lay impassive. But, occasionally, his body would twitch and nonsensical terms would spew forth from his mouth. It was one of these unprofitable mutterings that had prompted Maji Al's question to the Orici.

His scrutiny falling on the crusted wound just behind Daniel's temple, the ambassador winced sympathetically. He had sent three of his largest guards to abduct the young man, hoping that he would be dissuaded from resisting such obviously overwhelming opposition, just so that such violence would not be necessary. He had listened with dismay, and quite a bit of awe, to the keeper's report that Daniel had unflinchingly engaged them in battle, managing to fight them off long enough for one of his team to find them in the garden. At that point, they had had no choice but to subdue him by force.

Maji Al glared into the corner at the three men who had abducted Daniel. Singling out Kajimar, the guard who had foolishly used his own keeper club back in the garden to knock Daniel out, he narrowed his eyes in discontent. He worried now that, in spite of the way he'd carefully directed blame on the Norellians for Daniel's disappearance, General O'Neill and his people would eventually conclude that their teammate was actually in Eluetian custody. For all his lack of supernatural powers, O'Neill frightened the ambassador almost as much as the Orici, for he knew instinctively that the general would kill him without compunction if he ever discovered their ruse. Yet, for all his alarm, Maji Al could not despise the man for such a stance – for like the ambassador, O'Neill was interested only in protecting his own.

Reminded that Daniel's friends were out there searching for him, Maji Al sent up silent thanks that none of the off-worlders was killed in the explosions that occurred during the reception. Several of his people had not been so lucky. Grief and not a little anger spurring him, Maji Al screwed up his courage and again turned to the Orici.

"Was it really necessary to attack the reception hall? My men could have gotten him out without the distraction."

Spearing him with a look that left no doubt that she viewed him as nothing more than a thing to be tolerated only as long as she benefited from his presence, Adria spat, "I didn't destroy your precious hall. I had no need." Leaning closer to Maji Al, she arched an amused eyebrow when he flinched back. "I knew that your fear of the consequences of failing to obtain what I wanted was enough to motivate you to success." Grinning knowingly at the flush that rose on the shorter man's face, Adria straightened, turning back towards the vessel containing that which she sought. 

Obviously dismissed, Maji Al glanced back at their captive, his gaze immediately darting from the sweat-dampened forehead that again knotted in confusion, instead sweeping the full length of Daniel's – no, Dr. Jackson's – frame. In spite of the young man's insistence, under these circumstances Maji Al could not continue to refer to him by his first name. Such an honor was too intimate for the position he now held with respect to this affable, gentle man. 

Though Maji Al had protested that such measures were unnecessary, Adria had demanded that Dr. Jackson be bound to the tall, narrow bed on which he lay. Reluctantly, Maji Al had instructed two Peace Keeper guards to do as Adria bid. Stripping him of his shoes, jacket and long-sleeved shirt, they threw the garments in the chair next to the bed then strapped Dr. Jackson to the flat surface by strong bands crisscrossing his body at ankle, mid-thigh, hips and shoulders. The ties at hip level had been wrapped tightly around his wrists prior to being fastened to the bed, effectively immobilizing his arms at his sides. 

Again cursing the guard's use of excessive force, Maji Al had to admit that rendering the archaeologist insensible had made obtaining the telepathic connection easier. Once he was secured to the bed, Dr. Jackson had been allowed to come to consciousness only enough for the telepaths to take over his thought processes, leading him towards the information in his mind that the Orici required. 

As Dr. Jackson again jerked against his bindings, Maji Al cut his eyes away guiltily, swinging his gaze from their victim to surreptitiously watch his co-conspirator in the young man's abduction – for that was how he viewed his relationship with Adria, unwelcome as the alliance was. Maji Al did not give himself over to rationalizations; he was as much to blame for the harm Dr. Jackson was suffering as the decidedly evil being at his side. Yes, she had threatened his people with destruction – and provided ample evidence that she could easily follow through on the threat – and the ultimate decision to bow to her demands had been the ruling counsel's, not his own. But in Maji Al's mind, that did not excuse him from exchanging the lives of those whom he represented for the mental rape of this fine young man. Maji Al cringed at the word, but would not delude himself – Dr. Jackson may have expressed his desire to participate in the extraction, but his current predicament could, in no way, be construed as willing participation. 

Shivering at the malevolent twist to Adria's lips, Maji Al carefully kept his line of sight below the level of the bed on which Dr. Jackson writhed with increasing frequency. The two telepaths – one to distract, one to extract – stood opposite each other over Dr. Jackson's prone form, hands resting lightly on his biceps, as was customary. But this operation was far from usual. Ordinarily, the procedure they were undertaking was not painful to the subject; it was only the circumstances that made it so this time. 

Hoping to discourage her from her plan to plunder Dr. Jackson's mind, Maji Al had told the Orici that he had felt a connectedness between Dr. Jackson and certain members of his team, surmising that Dr. Jackson might be able to tip one or more of them off to what she was planning. Rather than being deterred, Adria had revised her plan, having Maji Al instruct the distracting telepath to provide Dr. Jackson's mind with images of captivity, dropping clues that, when – if – Dr. Jackson was freed, would lead him to believe he had been a guest of the Norellians. Also per her orders, Maji Al had tried to mislead General O'Neill and his team to the same conclusion.

Thinking back to the afternoon nearly two months ago when, while entertaining a being who had identified himself as a Prior of the Ori, he had received word of the arrival of travelers from a planet called Earth, Maji Al recalled how the news precipitated the Prior's hasty departure, with a request that he not mention his visit to anyone. The ambassador berated himself now for not recognizing that the two events were somehow connected.

His mind spooled forward, to the more recent past, and the arrival of the Orici. Accompanied by the Prior who had previously visited their world, she wasted no time with pleasantries, demanding to know their business with the Tauri. By the smug look on the Prior's face, Maji Al had deduced that the strange man's abrupt flight from his audience with the ambassador was inspired by his need to take news of the off-worlders to her. 

It had taken little persuasion on the Orici's part to get the ruling counsel's confession that the visitors had included Dr. Daniel Jackson, who planned to return and undergo a procedure to extract information buried in his subconscious – information potentially harmful to the Ori. 

Maji Al hung his head in shame for the supposed leaders of his world – though he knew the rather shocking death of the first counselor who had openly opposed the young woman had quickly swayed all of their minds to her point of view. She had demanded their cooperation in obtaining the information Dr. Jackson held – and the devotion of their people to the Ori – and in exchange she would not instantaneously obliterate every man, woman and child on the planet. 

Maji Al sighed. _'If I had mentioned the Prior's retreat upon news of their appearance, would Dr. Jackson still have returned to request the extraction?'_ Somehow he doubted it would have made a difference. Dr. Jackson seemed determined to get at the information buried in his brain – information that he believed could stop the Ori incursion into their galaxy. And by the time the Tauri had come back, he was knee deep in league with the Orici.

"Why is this taking so long?"

Lost in his musings, Maji Al jumped at the harsh tone of the question. He opened his mouth to answer, but his attention was diverted when one of the telepaths cried out. Swinging his gaze in their direction, Maji Al gasped. Dr. Jackson's upper body arched severely and the strap across his right shoulder slipped inward. The edge of the tightly pulled binding slid over the young man's undershirt and snapped against his neck, cutting a shallow groove just under the material. Dr. Jackson's hands drew into fists and, as he pulled against the restraints, droplets of blood fell to the bed beneath his wrists. 

The telepaths gaped at each other, fear apparent on their faces. It was only due to their training that they did not remove their hands from their subject's skin, as to do so would risk losing the contact with his mind. 

Once Dr. Jackson settled again, Maji Al stepped towards the table, eyes boring into the distracting telepath. "What are you doing? He should not be experiencing such pain."

"It's not me," the telepath insisted, eyes wide with terror. 

Glancing around to the others in the room, the extracting telepath supported his partner's claim. "There's someone else in here," he indicated Daniel's head with a jerk of his chin. "Someone has been interfering with my efforts to locate the information." 

Turning to question the Orici, Maji Al was unexpectedly thrown to the floor by the first explosion that rocked the building in which they had concealed themselves. 

Panicked by the shaking and concussive noise, the telepaths abandoned their task, folding in on themselves to kneel on the floor, their arms covering their heads against the dust and occasional small chunk of stone loosed from the ceiling. 

Directing the guards to reconnoiter the hallway, Maji Al dragged himself from the floor, and stumbled to Dr. Jackson. He gasped at the startled blue eyes that stared out, unseeing, from the young man's pale face, made even more colorless by the dust settling on the captive's body. Gingerly turning Dr. Jackson's head to protect his eyes from falling particles, he noted the parted lips were dry, great drafts of dirty air being pulled and expelled over them as the prone man panted laboriously.  He laid a hand on the debris-coated arm, frowning in distress at the noticeable tremors running beneath the surface of the clammy skin.

Maji Al reached for the straps that held Dr. Jackson in place beneath the crumbling roof. Kicking at the nearest telepath, he ordered both of them to get out of the building. As they stood to obey, Maji Al began to untie the bindings. 

"Stop! Get away from him!" Adria demanded.

"If he dies in the collapse of this building, no one will get the information he contains," Maji Al shouted defiantly at her.

"I said get away from him," Adria barked, taking a step towards him, her eyes narrowed dangerously. Before she could enforce the order with a psychic assault on the ambassador, three additional blasts went off in quick succession, each getting nearer to their location. The last blast shook the foundation with enough force to send Adria sprawling on the floor and a sizeable portion of the roof came down between the Orici and her prey.

Taking advantage of the cover, Maji Al succeeded in unwinding the strap from Dr. Jackson's right wrist. He threw the strap off the lean hips, and quickly skirting the bed, began pulling on the bindings surrounding the archaeologist's left wrist. Nodding in satisfaction as the ties came loose; he leaned towards Dr. Jackson's mouth, having heard him utter a single whispered word. 

"Jack."

Before Maji Al could puzzle out that the name belonged to General O'Neill, the room fell in on him in a blinding flash that ended in total darkness.

*****

Waking with a start from his restless nap, Daniel immediately brought a hand to his forehead, hoping it would be enough to keep his brain from blowing his skull into a million messy pieces. He kicked out and whimpered, arching his back against the tunnel wall, as the pain in his head spiked to nearly unbearable levels. Daniel balled his hands and pressed them against his temples. 

As he struggled to bring the agony under control, his breath coming in panted gasps, his eyes shot open of their own accord. Though he believed that he was still in the tunnel through which he had escaped his prison room, Daniel saw nothing but shapeless shadows. 

Sensing an ominous presence skitter across him, he shuddered, wishing for light to dispel the evil. Instinctively, Daniel called for the one man who, though he was no longer a physical presence in Daniel's life, had never ceased to be a source of comfort and support.

"Jack!"

The wished for light flared briefly then Daniel was cast into complete darkness.

*****

"What the hell was that?" Jack O'Neill asked rhetorically. Cocking an ear with practiced ease in the direction from which the rumble had emanated, he quickly scanned the horizon for a visual clue as to its origin. 

"Sounded suspiciously like an explosion," Vala offered, pulling her lips tightly together when O'Neill turned on her with a 'who asked you' glower.

"Where did Ali Baba say those rebel troops were?" Digging his field glasses from the pocket of his combat vest – which Landry had finally agreed to provide, along with their usual off-world gear – Jack swept the countryside for movement.

"Maji Al, sir," Carter automatically corrected, grimacing apologetically when the general lowered his binoculars to raise an irritated brow at her. "Uh, the southwest, sir."

"That explosion came from the northwest," Vala ventured again, quietly pleased when O'Neill instructed Mitchell to check the map. 

As ordered, Mitchell dug out the crudely drawn map the ambassador had provided, spreading it out against the surface of Teal'c's broad back. 

"According to this there's nothing to the northwest but grass and trees," Mitchell said after a moment's perusal. 

Three loud booms in rapid succession shook the ground beneath their feet.

"Grass and trees, my ass," Jack spat, motioning his team in the direction of the blasts. Coming over the crest of a hill at a fast jog, Jack fell on his stomach, lifting his binoculars and watching in increased irritation as several small contingents of troops – Norellian, he guessed – converged on what appeared to be an abandoned group of concrete buildings just over a thousand meters distant. 

"Why do you suppose these buildings are missing from our little map?" Jack asked no one in particular.

"So that we did not know of their existence," Teal'c supplied helpfully.

"Think the little guy's got something to hide?" Mitchell queried.

"Of course he does!" Jack snapped, as his suspicion was confirmed. Pushing himself to his feet, he collapsed at almost the same moment another blast tore into the side of one of the buildings, a pain akin to having a hot poker shoved in his ear assailing him.

"O'Neill!" Teal'c was immediately at his side, Carter following right behind. The Jaffa grasped the front of the dazed general's vest, lifting him into a sitting position. "Are you injured, O'Neill?"

"No," Jack grunted. "Not from... explosion." Gripping the arms of Teal'c's jacket, Jack fought to focus his thoughts. "In. my. head," he finally ground out.

"Aw, hell," Mitchell griped, dropping into a crouch and glancing around them, "Guess those telepaths aren't as innocent as the ambassador said, huh?" 

"No," Jack panted. "It's Daniel. He's in trouble." 


	7. Part 7 by lynt

Daniel awoke with a startled shout lodged in his throat. His eyes opened wide, trying to see through the darkness but to no avail. He shuddered with cold though his skin felt clammy with sweat. His arms and legs cramped spasmodically and he coughed as he inhaled thick, dry dust. A heavy weight lay across his legs and he kicked out in a frantic effort to get free.

His thoughts were scattered and flimsy, evaporating before he could even half-form them. Had the tunnel caved in? He lay on something cold and unforgiving, and when he tried to move, something sharp dug into his back. Which way was out? He rolled his head to the left but encountered only inky blackness. Turning to the opposite side, he saw a flicker of light in the distance. The way to freedom, he hoped.

Gasping for breath, panting through the pain that assailed his entire body at the movement, he pulled his upper body off the floor then leaned forward, pushing until the burden that held his legs captive rolled free.

Dizziness attacked him and he fought to push it back, rolling to his knees then retching suddenly as a white-hot pain blasted through his skull. He clutched at his ribs as agony sheared through them, stealing his breath.

Exhausted, terrified, he reached for Jack in his mind, seeking comfort and reassurance that his ordeal would soon be over, that Jack would find him, but was greeted by an ominous silence.

"Jack?" he whispered.

Nothing.

Slowly, he began to drag himself toward the light on hands and knees, tearing and bruising flesh on unseen obstacles in his path, unheeding to everything but his desperate need to escape his prison.

~o0o~

A small group of men staggered from the collapsing buildings as SG-1 approached. Three were Eleutian keepers, Jack realized, and they were trailed by one of the women healers.

As much as he wanted to lead this charge, Jack motioned for Mitchell to take point, knowing it was the right thing to do. Teal'c automatically went to the rear, watching their six and he watched Carter shepherd Vala in behind her.

Vala gave Jack a pissed off look that he weathered with a stern glare. She'd earned her place on the team, or so Landry had assured him, but right now, he wanted the people he knew in the key spots and he had to admit he was still a little pissed off with her himself for not getting to Daniel in time.

The pain in his head had dissipated almost as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a dull, throbbing ache. 

They still had no idea who or what was inside the buildings. If this was where the Norellians were holding Daniel, Jack would take what was left of the place apart with his bare hands to find him, and god help anyone who stood in his way. And what part the Eleutians were playing in this whole mess was anyone's guess. Jack was getting heartily sick of his team, and in particular, Daniel, being used as bargaining chips. Why the hell couldn't they all just fight their own damn battles?

He reached out and grabbed one of the keepers, dragging him back against the meager cover of the concrete wall. "What happened?" he hissed.

The keeper looked somewhat dazed. Blood trickled from a gash above his left eye. "We had no choice," he said, staring down at the ground. "She would have destroyed our entire planet, had we not taken Doctor Jackson and extricated the knowledge he holds within his memories."

Jack felt a cold chill settle in his heart and he glanced at Mitchell, who raised an eyebrow.

"You thinking who I'm thinking?"

Jack nodded. "She? Who?" he asked the Eleutian.

The man's gaze flickered up to Jack's face and just as quickly fell again. "The Orici."

"Crap!" Mitchell said. 

Vala pushed forward and grabbed the Eleutian's arm. "Adria? The Orici is here?"

The man nodded. "She has Doctor Jackson and Maji Al."

Mitchell settled his P-90 into a firmer grip in his hands and nodded at Jack. "I was so hoping I was wrong. Ready when you are, sir." 

Jack pushed the keeper away. "Go, get your people away from here." He turned to Carter but had to duck when a shot from the Norellian soldiers chipped concrete from the wall next to his head.

Teal'c was laying down covering fire but was fighting a losing battle as the Norellians continued to advance. Hating to split their forces, but knowing the threat now came from without and within, knowing too that if Adria got her claws into Daniel, he'd never survive, Jack nodded for Mitchell to head into the building then turned to Carter. "You and Teal'c, watch our backs. See if you can convince the Norellians that we're not the ones they should be shooting at."

He stared at Vala for a moment. "Vala, you're with Mitchell and me."


	8. Part 8 by Devra

There had been grating. And light. And the massing Norellian army in the valley below. Now? Daniel was back down the tunnel, head pounding, the light nothing more than a dim illumination in the distance. A nightmare of epic proportions.

Fear was a great motivator. Fear that the white hot pain in his head was clouding his judgment and perception. Claustrophobic fear as the tunnel now appeared to narrow as he moved forward. Fear that the proverbial light at the end of his tunnel was nothing more than a mirage. But what forced Daniel to keep crawling, dragging his failing body towards the light was the gut wrenching fear that if he didn't keep moving, he was going to die, here, in this tunnel, alone. 

Daniel collapsed face down. A rest. All he needed was a rest. Five minutes and he'd be able to continue his hellish trek toward freedom. 

He breathed around his pain. Concentrating on each inhalation and exhalation. In. Out. Forcing his brain to focus on the simple act of drawing air into his lungs. 

Head hanging, Daniel levered onto his hands and knees and began his slow crawl to the light. Breathing and moving. Daniel shut down everything else. He promised all of his aches, pains, and the torturous dance in his head full attention the moment he was at the SGC. Infirmary, bed and good drugs. 

Daniel looked up, blinking, a slow smile of accomplishment spreading over his face. He'd made it. Brighter than he remembered, the elusive light was within arm's length. Without hesitation, he reached out, whimpering in shock as the light shimmered and shifted. A tendril of light extended outward, wrapping itself around Daniel's hand. 

The sensation of being pulled into the light was mental more than physical. Daniel could still feel where the surface of the tunnel was digging into his hand and knees. "I'm sorry, Jack," he whispered into the brightness.

* * * 

The confusion was sudden. Jack staggered to a stop and did a little two step to stay upright as Vala plowed into him. 

Furtively, she glanced over both shoulders, then stood on tippy toes and peered over Jack's shoulder "Did I miss something?" she hissed in his ear.

He flicked her away like an annoying bug, then glanced down at his hand, more than a bit shocked it wasn't covered in white mist. 

"General?" Mitchell's concerned face appeared in Jack's line of vision. 

Jack shook out his hand, then moved it to securely clutch his P—90 against his chest. "Move," he ordered Mitchell, irritated that the man had backtracked to check on him. They were wasting precious time. Time they couldn't afford to lose. Time Daniel couldn't afford them to lose. "Daniel's time is—"

From behind, Vala squeezed his bicep. "Don't worry, General. We'll make, otherwise I'll kill Daniel if something happens to him." 

Strangely enough, Vala's statement made perfect sense to Jack. 

* * * 

Eyes closed, Daniel assessed the situation. The material on which he was spread eagle was comfortably warm and familiar against his back. He shifted, and it seemed to shift and settle around him, the generated heat a balm against abused and overused muscles. Even the pounding in his head had descended to a tolerable level and Daniel allowed himself a few moments of luxurious non—thinking and just basking. It was his hands that put two and two together, opening and closing over the heated material. Tiny granules sifted between his closed fingers.

Sand? 

Slowly, he opened only one eye, then shut it quickly, blinded by the blast of light from the overhead sun. 

A shadow settled across him, blocking out the intensity of the sun that had been filtering through his closed eyelids. "Crap," Daniel groaned.

"I am sorry, Danyel." 

Daniel's eyes flew open and he stared, open mouthed at the anxious face peering down at him. "Shifu?" Daniel couldn't help it, but he jerked when Shifu reached out.

The child smiled Sha're's smile and Daniel's return smile was slow and hesitant. 

"You do not seem pleased to see me." His voice was soft, childlike with a tinge of hurt. 

"I'm just a little..." Daniel stammered "... surprised." He dug his elbows into the sand and pushed himself into a sitting position. 

* * *

Shifu sat next to Daniel in the sand. Grinning, but remained silent. 

Daniel kept silent as well, his gaze trained on the horizon. "Abydos." 

"I thought the home of my mother would please you." 

"Yes, it pleases me." It hurt his heart, but he drank in the visuals of a place he'd never be able to visit again except in his dreams. "Is this a—am I dreaming?" 

Shifu ducked his head. 

"You apologized to me. You said you were sorry. What are you sorry for?" 

"It was I who caused you pain. And though the pain was necessary, I feel the need to apologize. " 

Pain? Daniel was a mass of aches, pains and confusion, and he was unsure which particular pain Shifu was taking credit for. "I was kidnapped and I escaped—" Daniel glanced over his shoulder, but there was nothing behind him except endless miles of sand dunes. "—at least I thought I escaped." Daniel rubbed his forehead. 

"Illusions." 

"And this?" Daniel's arm swept the landscape. "Is this an illusion?" 

"This is safety," Shifu said gently. 

"From the kidnappers?" 

"From all who desire the knowledge you possess." 

"I was giving my knowledge freely." 

"Through deception," Shifu explained patiently. 

"It was a lie? All of it?" 

Shifu nodded. "The Orici—" 

"Adria is here?" Daniel closed his eyes, shook his head, then opened them again. "Adria is on the planet?" Daniel scrambled to stand upright, his feet fighting for purchase in the sand. "I need to get back—I need to..."

Slowly, Shifu stood, then cocked his head as if he were listening, privy to a sound beyond Daniel's realm of hearing. "I could not allow the Orici to take what did not belong to her. I set up a barrier—"

"The headache?" The word headache didn't do justice to the anvil pressure that Daniel had endured. "The headache...," Daniel repeated, "... was you?"

"It was a barrier. A wall that would not allow the Eleutian healers accesses to your memories. I am sorry, there was no other way."

"You interfered," Daniel whispered. "The repercussions—" 

"You were my mother's husband. My family. Some bonds are stronger than others." 

Shifu smiled again and he grabbed Daniel's right hand and held it. Tightly. "Your friends are on their way. It is time."

A feeling of warmth infused Daniel, and the residual pain in his head became nothing more than a memory and the sand under his feet shifted and changed. The air became heavy, smoky and an uncomfortable weight dragged him down to a hard floor. 

"Dreams teach," Shifu whispered into Daniel's ear, before he too was lost in the changing landscape. 

The pain that enveloped Daniel was sudden, and he choked, trying to fill his lungs with air. "Help," Daniel yelled, but there was no strength behind the single word. Its intensity lost in Daniel's struggling against the weight pinning him down. 


	9. Part 9 by Snarky

'Well, isn't this special?' Cam thought, a snort of disgust doing double duty to express his disbelief at the antics going on behind him, and to expel the lingering dust that seemed to be getting thicker the further they traveled into the complex. 'Jackson's missing and the General and Vala are sharing a moment, rather than concentrating on getting said teammate back.'

The General hadn't looked so hot when he'd ordered Mitchell back to point, so this time, Mitchell didn't range quite so far ahead. He could hear the soft murmurs of Vala doing her 'I'm so concerned about Daniel' routine, which was to be expected, but it was surprising to hear O'Neill commiserate. Oh, he knew that SG-1, the original team led by Colonel Jack O'Neill, was legendary to those who knew of the SGC at all, but the official reports didn't hint at the depth of friendship they had for each other. It had taken Mitchell the last year and a

half of talking to the mountain support staff, what few there still were, who'd been around since its inception, to even scratch the surface of the stories surrounding the premier team. Still, all those stories told of an aloof, if irreverent, commander, not this concerned, almost pensive, one.

Distant explosions were still going off every minute or so, sending sound reverberations and rumblings vibrating the floor beneath their feet and setting the dust hanging in the air to shimmer in renewed frenzy.

After one such minor explosion, Cam went down on one knee to peer around some fallen debris at the next intersection of hallways, weapon poised and finger at the safety. They'd been lucky so far, in that the few people they'd passed looked to be more concerned about exiting the groaning building rather than halting their own progress into it. Still, it wouldn't be safe to assume that anyone fleeing the epicenter of destruction didn't have another agenda that included keeping Jackson away from his team.

His thoughts were dragged back to the archeologist even as he completed his scan of the next hallway. He gave the hand signal for all clear.

'What is with that guy? My grammaw had prize rose bushes that got less attention than he does,' Cam reflected, keeping an ear out for his approaching team members as they made to catch up to him. It wasn't hard to do; General O'Neill was muttering something to Vala about one of the dozens of times that Daniel'd been separated from the team back when he was in charge.

A quick glance over his shoulder caused Cam a moment of concern. O'Neill still looked a bit pasty white, and Vala's hold on his arm looked more supportive physically than emotionally. The general must have caught his assessing look and interpreted it accurately, because he gave a subtle negative shake of his head and motioned with his chin for Cam to keep moving forward.

One last look at the pair behind him, blessedly silent now, creeping along the corridor, reassured Mitchell that they were watching his back with a bit more attention to their surroundings, so he turned down the hall to his right, having noticed the pile of rubble at the end of it. Call it a hunch, but he was fairly certain that Jackson would be near or around the worst of the damage. Whether he intended to be or not, that man was always smack dab in the middle of things, usually troubling things.

Once his next point of cover was achieved and all sight lines confirmed to be secure for the moment, Cam motioned Vala and O'Neill to continue towards him while grabbing a bandana from his cargo pocket. Even taking small, shallow breaths, he was drawing too much dust into his lungs. It was time to remedy that situation. With a few flicks of his thumb, he opened his canteen, tilting it in its holder to wet the bandana held in the fingers of that same hand. 'It's amazing,' he thought, 'The things one can do with one hand when one refuses to relinquish the gun being held by the other.'

A wry smile graced his features as he capped the water bottle and brought the bandana to his face. Unable to resist the urge to wipe off some of the dust clinging to his features, he swiped, grateful to feel the cool wetness against his skin.

When O'Neill and Vala caught up to him and crouched at his side, he gave them a quick recap, securing the wet bandana to the bottom half of his face to help filter the dust from the air. "The next corridor," he started, shrugging to his left and behind to indicate the only intersection left in this hallway, "is pretty short, destruction is moderate, and if there was a door at the end of it, it's gone now. Further down this hall," he tilted his head, also to the left, but indicating a straight shot in the direction they'd been traveling the last few minutes, "it's worse, and the doors look like they're still solidly in place, just blocked behind lots of debris."

During Cam's brief recital, Vala and the general mirrored his idea with the bandana, retrieving, wetting and tying on their own makeshift filters.

Poking his head out from behind the rubble forming their meager cover, O'Neill looked in both directions and nodded, confirming the intel.

"Which way?" Vala asked, surprising Mitchell. There was no way Vala Mal Doran could ever be considered a follower. It wasn't often she looked to someone else to make decisions. 'Come to think of it,' Cam thought, 'Jackson's usually the only one she'll listen to... barely."

A new assessing look crossed his face, this one centered on the general at his side, rather than the gradually quieting chaos around them, sure that Vala's newfound acquiescence came from the older man's presence. His close scrutiny let him catch the brief tightening of the skin around the unfocused chocolate brown eyes and thin-lipped mouth.

"What?" Mitchell asked.

O'Neill winced again, this time more noticeably, and closed his eyes, causing Vala to put her hand on the older man's arm again to steady him. "General?" she asked.

When no answer was forthcoming, she tried again, "Jack?"

Mitchell thought there was a hint of worry beneath her tone.

After a slight sway that threatened to overbalance his crouched position, O'Neill caught himself with a hand on the floor and opened his eyes.

As if he hadn't heard Vala's attempts to get his attention, he shifted his gaze down the side corridor and pointed to the gaping hole at the end. "He's that way."

Cam sighted down the offshoot again, then looked down their current path towards what he'd chosen as the most likely objective. "Sir," he started, "They would have kept Jackson behind the most secure doors, making the more likely choice straight down this hall."

O'Neill nodded but didn't take his attention from the side corridor.

"And you know how nothing's ever easy with Jackson," the younger man continued his voice easily conveying his disbelief at O'Neill's chosen target, "So do you really think he's going to be waiting at the end of a mostly debris-free hallway with a blasted open door? Doesn't that strike you as a touch too... easy?"

The gray-haired man finally brought his full attention back to Cam. "He's there," was all he said.

Cam took a few more seconds to go over the facts in his head, and though they all pointed towards the opposite of what the general was saying, he had to weigh that against O'Neill's honed instincts from seven years of field work with SG-1. The older man KNEW how to keep a leash on Jackson, and, more importantly, when the stubborn scientist slipped his leash (far too often, it seemed), he knew how to get him back.

Decision made, Cam said, "Lead on, MacDuff."

"Lay on," muttered O'Neill.

Cam's "What?" was echoed by Vala's, each of them sharing a confused glance with the other as the general rose from his crouch and started down the side corridor.

"Never mind," floated back to them with all the dust and creaking. With no other choice, they followed.

-o-o-o-

"Teal'c?" Sam asked, crouched beside the large warrior in the shattered canopy remains of what used to be the building's main entryway. 

"Yes, Colonel Carter?"

"Have you noticed anything strange about the Norellians?" she asked, facing away from the building and toward the tree line that separated this compound from the rest of the city-a compound that wasn't on the map they'd been given. 

An occasional glimpse of an Eluetian Peace Keeper uniform could be seen as stragglers fled from secondary exits, but more often than not, the hidden shooters in the foliage appeared to be dressed in what passed for Eluetian civilian clothes, albeit of a bedraggled nature.

"I have, Colonel Carter," he answered.

"They seem like they're shooting blind," Carter observed.

"Indeed," confirmed Teal'c. He stood on the opposite side of the entrance, back to the warped doorjamb, alternating his attention between the tree line, the fleeing Peace Keepers, and the building into which the rest of his teammates had gone.

"And yet, when the Peace Keepers make it to a certain point, it seems like their aim miraculously improves," Sam continued.

The straggling, dotted line of uniformed bodies about ten meters out from the building paid testament to that theory. There were only about a dozen or so downed soldiers littering the ground, but all were outside that imaginary boundary, most of them quite close to it.

"The Norellians appear unable to see their targets until they move far enough away from buildings," Teal'c hypothesized.

"What, like the buildings are interfering with their sight? Emitting some sort of light wave that confuses the eye?" Carter asked, scanning the area around their position while a portion of her brain warmed to and expanded on her theory. "Maybe the Peace Keepers carry remote transmitters which make them visually indistinguishable from the buildings or their surroundings, but past a certain point, they no longer work."

During Sam's pause for breath, Teal'c interjected, "I do not think the Norellians capable of seeing the buildings themselves, Colonel Carter."

"What gives you that idea?"

"The Norellians have made no attempt to leave the trees, preferring to eliminate the enemy as they exit their sanctuary. This would normally indicate that they are waiting for a signal to move in," Teal'c mused aloud, sharing his many years more military experience with his friend. "However, there have been enough additional explosions since the first, to assume that many, if not all, the buildings in this compound have been breached or compromised. There's very little resistance remaining, making holding back additional forces unnecessary, as well as foolish. The Norellians should be pressing their advantage."

Sam cocked and bobbed her head in that half-questioning, half agreement habit she had. "True. So you think they're holding off because they can't see the buildings themselves?"

Nodding his head once, Teal'c explained further, "If they cannot see the situation to plan accordingly, the best decision is to wait. The explosives were no doubt planted in advance, most likely with intent to eliminate whatever is shielding the compound. When that occurs, or resistance is no longer evident, they will swarm the buildings."

Sam had to admit the logic made sense. And as a working theory, it was better than nothing. Glancing at her watch, she noted seven minutes had gone by since the rest of the team had entered the building. 

A sharp spike of fear rippled through her body, causing her heart to stutter a beat before subsiding back into its natural rhythm. She glanced around automatically, scanning for whatever could have caused her adrenaline to spike so suddenly. She noticed Teal'c doing the same. Immediately, a sense of Daniel's presence seemed to fill the space beside her, a sense of pain and anguish accompanying it. It was palpable for just a minute or so, then slowly faded away.

"Did you feel that?" Sam asked.

"If you mean that Daniel Jackson seemed to be near us and in considerable distress," Teal'c gazed unblinkingly at the obviously blank space between himself and the still crouching woman, "then, yes, I did."

That was good enough for Sam. It was a few minutes early for the check in, but her concern for their missing teammate, coupled with the Norellian intel made her reach for her radio anyway. 

-o-o-o-

"HOTEL WHISKEY SIERRA NINER, THIS IS SIERRA GOLF ONE NINER. OVER," came the tinny voice of Colonel Samantha Carter from three radio speakers as General O'Neill, Colonel Mitchell and Vala Mal Doran crept around fallen wall and ceiling blocks on their way to the beckoning open doorway.

Jack took a moment to smile at the inventiveness of his former second in command. This was supposed to have been a diplomatic mission, so it was not like they'd gone into this thinking about call designations in the event of combat situations. HWS leader, or Homeworld Security, was a good call. He looked back briefly to see if Mitchell was miffed at having Carter claim SG-1 leader status and wasn't surprised to catch a small smile on the man's face. SG-1 had always been so good, because they didn't let pride or arrogance slip into the mix. Well, not the rest of them anyway. Jack had always had enough pride for all of them.

There was no movement visible in the darkened doorway before them, so Jack held up his fist for them to stop, then thumbed the transmitter button on his radio.

"Carter, report," he spoke softly into the plastic rectangle snug in the vest at his shoulder.

In a rapid, no nonsense voice, Sam recapped the conclusions she and Teal'c had come to regarding the Eluetians' strange there-yet-not-there complex and the inactivity from the Norellians in response to it.

"Just hang tight, Carter," Jack replied when she was through. "I think we're close, and I want to make sure we can make a fast exit once we've got him."

"Sir?"

"Let's just say that I have a feeling all might not be peaches and roses with Daniel's situation when we find him," Jack said.

A moment's hesitation of static came through Jack's radio, followed by, "Acknowledged, sir. Teal'c and I both felt..."

Into the silence following Sam's trailing statement, the trio exchanged glances, wondering what Sam felt so uncertain about.

"General O'Neill," Teal'c's transmission squawked into existence. "Both Colonel Carter and myself felt a definite sense of DanielJackson's presence a moment ago. He seemed to be in great distress. We wish you to make haste in finding him and carrying him to safety."

Jack bowed his head and ran his free hand down his face, stretching the skin in a parody of Munch's "Scream" painting.

"Yeah, Teal'c, I felt something similar a few minutes ago myself," Jack admitted, though he hated doing so. All this hocus-pocus crap was giving him a blinding headache. And, as usual, Daniel was smack dab in the middle of it. That boy was going to cause him a stroke yet, or at the very least, an ulcer.

He also had the feeling that Teal'c's word choice of "carrying" versus "escorting" Daniel to safety was deliberate. It seems none of the team expected to find their archeologist in one piece. A quick glance at his companions showed their concern ramped up a notch as well. Great, they were all feeling the heebie-jeebies now.

"Acknowledged. O'Neill out."

Motioning for the two behind him to follow, Jack headed once more towards the dark maw of the empty door frame. "C'mon, kids. Time to go play cavalry," he said.

-o-o-o-

Something was slowly strangling him, the pressure broad against his neck as he struggled to get air into his lungs. Confusion and pain swirled in an intricate dance through his mind, each trying to lead, yet neither gaining supremacy. The urge to throw up was almost a tangible pressure behind his teeth, but the desire to breathe overrode the nausea just enough to allow panicked strength to course through his limbs.

Wrenching his head back and to the side, and his arms up to his throat, Daniel tried to arch his body simultaneously away from whatever was in front of him, restraining him. The upper portion of his body obeyed his hasty commands gamely, if a bit sluggishly, but his lower body refused to move. His hands found purchase on a thick band, almost leather-like to the touch, which, now that his head was pushed back, rather than towards his chest, loosely constrained one shoulder and brushed against his neck.

Gulping in a deep breath, Daniel tried to open his eyes, but found them gritty and opposed to the very idea of serving their normal function. Grunting a bit in annoyance, he tried again to shift his body into a more comfortable position, because whatever he was lying on, it felt like an uneven group of very large, very sharp rocks, all of which seemed to be intent on attacking his left hip, side and chest.

Starting to tremble, Daniel noticed that without his conscious effort, his head wanted to slide down towards his chest and to the left. Ah... gravity. But when he rested his neck muscles, the strap started cutting off his air passage.

'Think, Daniel, think,' Daniel urged himself, but his internal encouragement didn't seem to cut through the muzzy confusion of his mind, or the uncoordinated efforts of his struggles to move his own body.

'Where am I? What's happened?' These thoughts were sharp enough, but their answers eluded him, even as his fatigued muscles refused to support the heavy weight of his head any longer.

As always, when he was in trouble, his mind instinctually sought the people he trusted most in this, or any other, world.

"Jack?"

Silence.

"Teal'c?"

More silence.

"Sam?"

Cloying heavy air was trapped in his lungs, struggling to burst free in a cough. The strap was preventing it even as it grudgingly allowed a small squeak of air to slip into his oxygen starved body.

Feeling himself slipping back into the black oblivion of unconsciousness, Daniel made one more effort to keep his neck from plastering itself against the strap slowly suffocating him. The cough he expelled was half guttural need and half choked plea, all encapsulated in one syllable, one name, "JACK!"

-o-o-o-

Jack was just pausing at the edge of doorway, ready to slip inside for some reconnaissance, when he heard his named groaned from the bowels of the dark room before him. Not pausing to think strategy or enemy placement or any life saving habits that years of military training had drilled into him, Jack plunged recklessly into the doorway, the flashlight at the end of his weapon sweeping through the dust-laden air, diffusing into almost uselessness by the dancing motes.

Two more weak spears of light joined his in tracing through the room, emanating from the two members of SG-1 behind him. Piles of rubble, most of which seemed to have come from the ceiling above, lay sprawled in strange looking formations.

Trying to rely more on his sense of hearing than sight, Jack thought he heard another groan coming from the right. Heading in that direction, his light swept across something that stood out in the black, white and grey tones of the dust obscured room — something flesh-colored. Picking his way forward with as much speed as possible, Jack's dread grew as he got closer to his friend's body.

A portion of bare shoulder and upper arm poked out from half underneath something that looked like it was pinning him in place, or alternately was holding him up, seeing as the shoulder in question had a strap running across it. He was lying half on his side and half on his front, most of his lower body obscured.

Jack shouted to Vala and Mitchell to give them a reference point and then sprinted the last few clear feet to Daniel's side. On closer inspection, it looked like a table with straps had overturned, taking Daniel with it as a, most likely, unwilling passenger. The legs of the table were bent and reached with spindly resignation towards the ceiling, knowing in their deformity that they were now useless. Jack just prayed that Daniel's own injuries wouldn't be nearly so incapacitating.

Putting a hand to his best friend's shoulder, Jack nudged him gently, "Daniel?"

There was no answer, but Daniel's head lolled gently with the transferred motion from his shoulder, making Jack aware that his head hung free and, when analyzed, at a pretty awkward angle. It didn't look like a broken neck kind of angle, but it couldn't be comfortable. Slipping his hand towards Daniel's neck, he sought a pulse, realizing the band was pretty snug against the flesh near his fingers.

The pulse was faint and sluggish, but there.

Vala and Mitchell arrived at his side in time for him to give them the bare bones. "He's got a pulse, but that strap can't be doing his neck any good. Vala, I need you to hold his head steady and away from the strap while Mitchell and I try to determine if we can lift this contraption with him on it. I don't think he's done any damage to his neck, but this is probably the best substitute we have for a backboard if he has."

Looking briefly at his two assistants, Jack finished with, "Can you do that?" knowing he was trusting the pair of them with Daniel's life. He didn't feel comfortable relying on anyone who wasn't Teal'c or Sam, but there wasn't exactly time to run back to the entrance and get them.

"Yes, sir."

"Of course."

Reassured, slightly, by the confidence and willingness in their voices, Jack shifted to examine the back of the table, noticing that only one incredibly bent leg was trapped under fallen debris. This was reassuring, but at the same time, the whole lot of them, table, Daniel and all, was only a few feet from the largest pile of ceiling he'd seen yet. He was sure that Daniel had barely missed being buried alive.

A harsh gasp interrupted the sounds of scuffling movement behind him, and he whirled to point his light at Vala, who sat on the floor next to Daniel's head, cradling it. Her wide-eyed, almost stunned look told him she probably hadn't made the sound.

"Was that Daniel?" he asked

Dropping her gaze from the light's glare, she nodded. When she spoke, there was a slight tremor to her voice noticeable even with the muffling, wet fabric of the bandana. "I don't think he could breathe. When I lifted his head, his whole body shook with the effort to get in air."

A combination of panted wheezing and short, shallow coughs filled the air, making all three aware that if Daniel had been suffocating, this dust laden air wasn't helping any.

Removing his own bandana, Jack tossed it towards Mitchell and waved at Vala. "Get this on Daniel while I start digging out the trapped leg."

Trusting Cam to follow through with his assignment, Jack bent to get to work on the pile of rubble. After shifting only a few cinder blocks, he uncovered what looked like a hand and arm, bloodied.

"Crap," Jack said, not really wanting to deal with a potentially dead body, knowing it was far more important to free Daniel and get him medical help. He looked over at Cam and Vala, knowing they would need to know about this eventually, but also not wanting to distract them from their more important task of caring for Daniel. He waved at them to continue on and bent back to unburying both the table and the person. Though Daniel was undoubtedly their first priority, if they could identify the body, or, god help the poor bastard if he were, find that he was still alive, they'd have a better idea of who had taken their friend. 

"You got him?" Mitchell asked Vala, sitting close enough to her to see that her eyes still had that haunted look to them.

She nodded, but didn't say anything. Finishing tying the bandana around the head being cradled by her, he patted one of her hands briefly before sitting back. "It'll just be a few minutes, then we'll get him on his back."

Vala nodded again, never turning her attention away from Daniel's unresponsive form.

After Cam joined Jack in clearing the debris, two things became clear. The first was the unknown body wasn't so unknown. It ended up being their oh so gracious host, Maji Al. Second, he was most definitely dead.

It was within the promised few minutes time frame that the table was as unburied as it was going to get, and they abandoned the still half-buried body to concentrate on Daniel. A few moments of murmured directions and assurances later, and Jack and Cam were slowly easing the table, more or less, back into its upright position, Vala gently guiding and supporting their friend's neck and head the entire way.

They couldn't rest the table on the floor, partly because of a lack of cleared space, but mostly because the legs were warped almost beyond recognition. When they got out of this place, it would probably make sense to hack off the legs if they were going to continue to use it as an impromptu stretcher. 

Itching to get the archeologist out of the ruined building, Jack fidgeted his grip on his end of the table as Vala carefully smoothed out Daniel's limbs. He was mostly secured to Cam's end of the table, his socked feet poking out of ankle restraints, and his dress pants plastered to his legs by the thigh bands. What looked like another set of straps was attached to the table at hip level, but dangled harmlessly towards the floor at the moment.

Vala went to undo the strap across his shoulders, the one that had been strangling him, but Jack stopped her with a quiet, "No."

It wasn't that he didn't want his friend free, but because he knew they had to get out of the building as quick as possible. Without the straps to keep Daniel on the narrow plank, he might slide off.

Vala acquiesced easily enough, probably having figured out herself that it was safer for Daniel to travel with them than without them. She brushed her hands over a dark red splotch on the left side of his white tank undershirt, fingers coming away slick with blood. The gloom was too deep to tell if it was his or someone else's, but there wasn't a great deal of it, so the wound could wait the few minutes it took them to get back to Carter and Teal'c's position.

Jack nodded at Vala to move out. "Take point, gun at the ready and shoot anyone you don't recognize."

He was not in a very forgiving mood right now. Not after confirming that ambassador Major Ass was involved with this.

Though he didn't tell her to do so, as they started back, Vala checked in with Teal'c and Carter, letting the others know they were on their way out. Jack was proud of her at that moment. Everything he'd read about her had led him to believe she was a mercurial and impulsive woman, but he'd found her, annoyingly, to be level-headed through this whole ordeal. He might even grow to like her. Maybe. She seemed to sincerely care about Daniel, which usually indicated "good people" to Jack's way of thinking.

Far sooner than Jack expected, but not as soon as he would have liked, the trio found themselves at the entranceway being guarded by Teal'c and Sam.

Jack in full commander mode barked, "Mitchell, take Carter's post. Vala, Carter, assess Daniel. Do what you can with the field supplies we have." Wedging the table against the wall, it rested wobbly enough on two of the four legs, freeing Cam of his side of the table. Using his hip to brace and stabilize Daniel's platform as best he could, Jack did his best to keep out of Vala and Sam's way as they rushed to empty pockets and remove various medical supplies from their packs.

With one eye on the activity surrounding Daniel and one on the sunshine bright day outside the door, Jack asked, "Teal'c, any further movement from our buddies out there?"

"The Norellians appear to be getting restless. I believe they will be making a frontal assault on this complex shortly. It has also been," Teal'c referenced his watch quickly, "three minutes since last we saw any movement of Eluetian Peace Keepers from this vantage point."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't trust any of them to help us, now," Jack said. In answer to Teal'c's quizzical eyebrow, he continued, "We found Midget Al back there where Daniel was being kept."

Oh sure, Jack had been told the same information by a random Peace Keeper escaping the wreckage of the building, but the man could have been a plant or decoy. Having concrete proof that the ambassador was involved with this was galling on one hand, because Daniel had trusted the Eluetian leader, only to have that trust betrayed. On the other hand, it was satisfying to know that his own instincts about the man had been accurate. It was good to know he still had it. Glancing down at his unconscious friend, Jack only regretted that his instincts couldn't save Daniel from further pain.

"Dead," Jack said, unable to keep the satisfaction out of his voice, "but no sign of the Orici, so that might have been a lie."

"I think that highly unlikely, O'Neill," said Teal'c indicating the distant tree line with a nod of his head. There, standing at the edge, was a Prior.

"Just great," snarled Jack. A sigh quickly followed. "Well, we found him. Any ideas of how we're going to get him home?"


	10. Part 10 by AnnieB

"We need some sort of distraction," Mitchell said, nodding toward the Prior who'd begun to turn in their direction.

"Like what?" Jack snapped out. "You gonna walk up to him and tell him you've seen the error of your ways and want to join Origin?"

Mitchell tilted his head to one side and grinned crookedly. He looked at Vala. "Not exactly," he said, "but if the mother of the Orici was looking for her daughter..."

Vala stood up and grinned back at him. "Of course. I mean it's only natural, isn't it? Maternal love and all that."

"All right," Jack agreed, "but at the first sign of him not buying it, we're booking and I expect you to be on our six."

"Yes sir," Mitchell agreed. "Believe me, I'll be so close to your six if that guy even lifts that staff of his, you'll think we're related."

"Go." Jack bent forward as Daniel murmured something. "Easy, Daniel, we're gonna get you home. Just hang in there, okay?"

Daniel's face was sheened in sweat, his eyelids flickering rapidly. He muttered something else that Jack couldn't catch and Jack looked up to see Carter and Teal'c standing next to him, the worry on their faces mirroring his own. "Teal'c, keep an eye on Mitchell and Vala."

"Very well." Teal'c turned and dropped to one knee, his staff weapon hefted over a broad shoulder, aimed at the Prior.

"Sir," Carter said hesitantly. "Something weird's happening."

"Define weird, Carter," Jack said, his attention still on Daniel.

"You really need to see for yourself, sir."

Jack swiveled and looked to where Mitchell and Vala were standing in front of the Prior. If the circumstances hadn't been so dire, he'd have laughed out loud. The Prior stood, gazing around, looking everywhere but at Mitchell and Vala. Vala was hopping up and down, waving her hand in front of the Prior's face.

"Mitchell?" Jack clicked on his radio. "What's going on?"

"He doesn't seem to see us, sir," Mitchell replied.

Mitchell drew back a hand and balled his fist, aiming at the Prior's face and Jack watched in stunned amazement as Mitchell's fist seemed to sail straight through the Prior's face.

The Prior turned and walked towards Jack and the others and Jack pulled his gun from its holster and aimed it steadily.

Teal'c was standing now, his staff weapon primed, but Jack waved him down. "I don't think he can see us," he said, watching, heart in his mouth as the Prior moved towards him, then through him. "Um, what the crap is going on?" he asked no one in particular as the Prior walked forward then vanished into clear air.

"Shifu," Daniel whispered, his voice sounding rusty.

"What?" Jack leaned forward and grasped Daniel's shoulder gently, shaking him a little until his eyes opened and focused.

"It's Shifu," Daniel said. "He's the one doing all this, protecting us, hiding us. He kept my mind safe from the telepaths and Adria."

"And now he's hiding us from the Prior?" Jack asked. "I thought he wasn't allowed to interfere."

"I am simply keeping you in a fold in space that the Prior does not occupy," a grave, young voice said. "I have not interfered in what the Orici wanted to do, nor with what the Eleutians planned. Should they truly want to, they could find you."

Jack looked up to see Shifu in front of him, the boy's form shimmering with a golden light. "Hiding's not interfering?" he asked skeptically. "It's just... I mean, not that I'm not grateful or anything but I'd hate you to get sent to your room with no supper or get grounded for helping us out."

The boy smiled. "Supper has little consequence for the ascended," he said. "Our forms do not require such sustenance, and Oma tells me I am already becoming adequately grounded—"

"Oh for crying out loud! It's a metaphor," Jack mock-growled, even as he smiled back at Shifu. "Thank you," he said more softly.

"You are welcome. You must leave this planet now though. I fear the Ori will return to search it more thoroughly." Shifu raised a hand, and when Jack followed where he was pointing, he saw the stargate blink into being, the wormhole already established.

"Sweet." Jack grinned.

oOo

"So, Daniel," Jack said, arms crossed as he slouched in the chair next to Daniel's infirmary bed, "tell me about this fold in space Shifu hid us in."

"What?" Daniel opened bloodshot eyes and peered bemusedly at him. "What are you talking about?"

Jack uncrossed his arms, leaned forward and placed both hands on the edge of the bed, gazing steadily into Daniel's face. "Daaaniel. Shifu... fold in space... being invisible to Priors... Any of this ring a bell?"

Daniel wrinkled his forehead then rubbed a hand over it wearily. "Okay, I remember Shifu being there and I'm guessing there was a Prior or two because Adria was there at some stage and she rarely goes anywhere without one..." He sighed, shook his head. "Folds in space I know nothing about. Talk to Sam." He closed his eyes again.

"You okay?" Jack asked, softly. "You need some more happy juice?"

"I'm okay. What's the damage anyway? I remember Doctor Lam telling me some of it but I wasn't really taking much notice at the time."

Jack frowned. "You sure you're all right?" he asked. "You really don't remember all the stuff that happened after we found you?"

"The one thing I do remember the doc mentioning was a concussion so I guess that explains that."

"You've got a couple of fractured ribs, a badly wrenched but luckily not fractured knee, and some really spectacular bruising on your face that I have no doubt will have Carter and Vala clucking over you for days to come, along with most of the female personnel on the base," Jack replied with a hint of envy.

"Hey, any time you want to swap places and become the whumpee, be my guest," Daniel said.

"There is one thing I really don't understand," Jack said.

"What's that?"

"I could kinda hear you in my head. Felt some of what was happening to you too. Mitchell thought he heard you too."

"Shifu?" Daniel guessed. "I think he knew that was the only way you'd be able to find me in time."

"Yeah? We thought it was those telepaths," Jack replied.

Daniel moved, trying to get comfortable. His knee was aching and felt as if it was twice its normal size. Immediately Jack was on his feet, flipping up the sheet and pushing the pillow under Daniel's knee back and forth.

"How's that?" Jack asked, after a final maneuver. "Better?"

Daniel smiled appreciatively. "Much. Thanks. Guess you know what works for injured knees, hey?"

"Oh yeah," Jack said, sitting back down. "Been there, done that, have a drawer-full of t-shirts."

"So, is everyone okay?" Daniel asked. "Sam, Teal'c..."

"Everyone's fine. Vala and Mitchell had some injuries from the explosion that the Eleutians healed. Apparently, they can do that." Jack shrugged. "But they're both fine now. They're finishing up their post-mission physicals right now. Teal'c and Sam both came through without a scratch, as did yours truly." He gave Daniel a wide self-congratulatory smile.

"First time for everything," Daniel observed.

"Hey, you're the trouble-magnet—"

"Oh come on, Jack, you've been in the infirmary at least as often as I have—"

"Have not."

"Have too."

"Have not."

"Have—"

"Don't you two ever quit?"

"Sam!"

"Hi, Daniel." Sam dropped a kiss on his forehead while Teal'c took up position at the end of his bed and gave a surprisingly broad-faced smile.

"It is good to see you are awake, DanielJackson," Teal'c said.

"It's good to be awake," Daniel replied. He stopped then with a rueful half-smile, pinched himself on the arm.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked.

"Just checking I'm really awake this time. I thought I was awake before, in the tunnels, when Shifu was with me, but I don't think I was. In fact, I don't think I was actually in the tunnels at all," Daniel said. He looked at Jack inquiringly. "Where did you find me?"

"In some sort of lab," Jack said.

"That's what I thought." Daniel rubbed at his forehead again, feeling tired all of a sudden. "It's all kind of mixed up, but I thought I'd escaped from the room I was in and was in some tunnel that led to the outside. Then I was on Abydos. That's when Shifu came to me. He told me he was protecting me from Adria, keeping my mind safe. I'm guessing he allowed me the imagery of the tunnel as a way of getting me to see that I was escaping, even if it was only within my own mind. And then he let me think I was on Abydos because he knew it was a place I associated with his mother."

"You know, the Eleutians are still keen to have you go through with the ceremony," Sam said, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Daniel's hand in hers. "They still think that you can help them, especially now they know the Ori already have at least a toehold in their world."

"Not going to happen," Jack said forcefully. He was about to go on with all the reasons why it wasn't when he realized that Daniel was shaking his head. "You're agreeing with me?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I am," Daniel replied. He closed his eyes for a moment then looked directly at Jack. "You remember when the Nox told you that sometimes the very young don't listen?"

Jack nodded.

"There's a reason the Norellians did this. They feel, obviously, that the Eleutians will use the knowledge they obtain from me to help themselves, and probably leave the Norellians to fend for themselves against the Ori. I don't want to be a party to that. Unless the Eleutians can show me proof that whatever knowledge they obtain will be used to help the whole of their planet then I don't want to give them any upper hand." Daniel rubbed at his forehead again and Jack remembered that he had to have the mother of all headaches right now.

"We don't need to talk about it now," Jack said. "You need to get some rest—"

"I need to tell now," Daniel said wearily. "Before I forget it all."

"Forget what, DanielJackson?" Teal'c asked, moving forward.

"Shifu said something to me that made me see why I couldn't do this. He told me that he'd taken me to a place to hide me from those who would take the knowledge I possess through deception. He said he couldn't allow the Ori to take my memories, but the Norellians and the Eleutians were no better. They used deception to gain what they wanted too." Daniel huffed out a sigh that was laced with tiredness. "I think that the Eleutians and the Norellians need to work together and find their own way to fight the Ori, just as all the people of the worlds visited by the Ori have had to do." He yawned suddenly, his eyes drooping half-closed. "Maybe if they can do that, they can save their world and build a stronger one."

Jack stood and patted his shoulder. "You're right, and I'm not just saying that because I didn't want you to do it in the first place," he said as Daniel cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Get some sleep," he added. "As soon as the doc cuts you loose, we're all heading to the cabin. It'll be like the good ole days."

"Mitchell and Vala too?" Sam asked, dropping a kiss on Daniel's forehead as she stood up.

Jack shook his head. "You guys can make your own traditions," he replied. "This one's ours. Just you, me. Daniel and Teal'c. That okay?"

Sam nodded. Teal'c bowed his head and reached forward to grasp Daniel's hand gently. "Sleep well, DanielJackson," he said.

"Oh, I will," Daniel replied. "I'll see you guys soon."

Jack turned to follow them then stopped at the door. "Daniel? I can understand why the Eleutians wanted to get their hands, or minds at least, on that brain of yours. But the next time someone asks, you tell them you're SG-1 and no one takes anything unless we all agree. Got it?"

"I got it, Jack. Thanks."

The End


End file.
